


Something to Tell You

by findingbetty



Series: Something to Tell You [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Anxiety, Coping, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-11-05 19:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 54,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11019798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/findingbetty/pseuds/findingbetty
Summary: A story of serendipity, new beginnings and letting your guard down.@findingbetty





	1. The Interview

Betty was nervous.

She was inclined to think that this was a fairly reasonable reaction to meeting a complete stranger for a 'roommate interview', but that did not serve to minimise her apprehension. She’d been waiting outside the prospective new apartment for over ten minutes now. Betty knew she had arrived early, but that did not stop the myriad of possible worst-case-scenarios rapidly formulating in her head. What if she got the time wrong? What if she was at the wrong address? What if they’d already found someone and forgotten to tell her?

“Betty!"

Betty jumped slightly, and turned around. Standing in front of her was a petite woman with long dark hair, who looked to be around the same age as Betty. She was smartly dressed in a green dress, complete with stiletto heels and a string of expensive looking pearls around her neck. Betty immediately felt a little underdressed in her jeans and sneakers.

“Hi!” she stammered. “Nice to meet you. You must be Veronica?”

Veronica smiled and held out her hand. “Veronica Lodge. Nice to meet you Betty. Sorry to startle you.”

“No no, not at all. Thanks for agreeing to show me the apartment, I’ve been really looking forward to it.”

“That’s great to hear,” Veronica said, ushering her over to the door and punching in the access code. “I really hope you like it.” Veronica held the door open for Betty to walk in.

Betty’s first reaction was one of disbelief. The apartment was light and airy, with modern fittings and an architecturally interesting design. Had she misread the advertisement? The rent for this place could not possibly be within her price range.

Veronica led her to the end of the corridor into the elevator, selecting the 8th floor. Betty’s mouth was a little dry. She was just wondering how to broach the subject of whether she may have misread the rent advertised on the apartment listing when the elevator stopped, the doors opened, and Veronica launched into an explanation of the proposed living arrangement.

Veronica had clearly screened several prospective tenants before Betty. Her spiel rolled off the tongue without hesitation as she unlocked the apartment door and welcomed Betty into a spacious, well appointed apartment.

“So the room we have available is in this penthouse apartment. I need to make you aware its currently unoccupied, but the other tenants and I are planning on moving in this weekend. There’s no formal lease. My parents purchased the apartment for me and my boyfriend to live in. There are two spare rooms, and we didn’t really want to live here by ourselves. My boyfriend’s friend will be in one of the rooms, and the other is the one we’ve listed. The rent is subsidised, because essentially we just want to find someone we like and who will fit in well,” she finished, smiling.

Betty smiled back at her, feeling hopeful. Her initial concern had morphed to a feeling of optimism, and she had a good feeling about this. The apartment was, frankly, beautiful, and Veronica seemed really nice. “I understand. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.”

“I can tell you now that I’ve had a bit of difficulty finding someone,” Veronica added. “The boys left it to me to do the interviews. I think they’d rather not be responsible for the decision,” she laughed.

Betty nodded, understanding. She had been to look at a couple of apartments since arriving in the city the week before, and could see that the risk of moving in with people you didn’t know could go either way. To Veronica’s credit, this had been the least awkward of the viewings she’d attended so far.

The apartment itself was open-plan. Sunlight bathed the main room, and Betty could see the harbour out the balcony window. It was also fully furnished, something that was huge draw card given she'd hopped off the plane with only her suitcase in tow.

“So, what do you do, Betty?” Veronica asked.

Betty turned back to Veronica. “Ah, I’ve just graduated, actually. I got a job offer here for a graduate journalism role, so I’ve moved to the city to take that up. It starts next Monday.”

Veronica beamed at her. “Congratulations! That’s really cool. Nothing like a new beginning!”

“Yeah, I’m excited. I understand you work in finance?” Betty asked her.

“That’s right. And my boyfriend Archie is involved in the music industry, and the other flatmate Jughead is a lawyer. So yeah, pretty serious lot,” she said jokingly, in a way that made Betty suspect that they weren’t that serious at all.

Betty wondered if she’d perhaps misheard the name 'Jughead'. Surely that wasn’t his actual name? Although, if it was, she supposed it would a little rude to make this observation. Instead, she took a deep breath. “Veronica, I can already tell I really like it here. I understand you’ve probably had a lot of interest in the room, but I just wanted to let you know I’d be really keen to move in if it were to be available for me. But yeah, obviously the decision is up to you guys.”

Veronica dropped her handbag on the floor, and dramatically threw herself back on the couch. “Oh, thank god,” she said, closing her eyes.

Betty stared at her, bewildered. Veronica sat back up and opened her eyes and smiled.

“Betty, if you want it, the room is yours. I think you’ll fit in really well. I’m so glad you’re interested, or I’d have had to take the crazy girl who spent 30 minutes preaching the benefits of green smoothies.”

Betty laughed. “Wow. Thank you. That’s great news,” she said, grinning. She couldn’t believe her luck. Not only had this been the least interrogative roommate screening ever, but within the space of 10 minutes, the course of her life seemed to have changed dramatically. She was going to have a new apartment by the time she started her graduate role!

Veronica stood back up and adjusted her outfit and her hair. “I can’t wait to tell the boys,” she said, happily. “Shall we go?”

Betty nodded, and followed her back out to the lift, and down to the entrance.

“I’ll email you some more details,” Veronica said to her, as they left the building. “Will you be set to move in this weekend?”

“Absolutely. Whenever suits.”

Veronica raised her arms in the air, triumphant. “Wonderful. I’ll see you then!”

Betty waved in her direction, and turned to cross the street, still not quite believing her luck. It was funny how everything had a way of working out if you were prepared to let it. She’d been so nervous about moving to the city and about living with people she didn’t know. Yet, here she was, handling it.

Betty ventured across the park directly opposite her new apartment building. Rounding the corner, she reached the city’s waterfront, and the harbour she’d seen earlier from the apartment window came into full view. Betty breathed in the salty air and felt the gentle breeze blowing through her hair. She sat down on a park bench at the waters edge. She folded her knees up to her chest and wrapped arms around herself, smiling as she watched the water rippling before her.


	2. Moving Day

Betty was stood outside the Precinct apartment complex with her suitcase and a shopping bag full of freshly purchased linen. She was examining the intercom system, trying to remember the instructions Veronica had given her. She remembered which apartment she was looking for, it was merely a matter of working out how to put a call through. Veronica and the others had been moving their possessions in all morning, and Veronica had promised someone would be around in the afternoon to let her in.

Having identified the correct combination of buttons, Betty dialled the intercom and waited nervously.

“Hello?” a male voice answered.

“Oh! Hi!” Betty replied, accidentally sounding a lot less calm and collected than she had intended. “It’s Betty,” she added.

“Betty?” the voice replied.

“Uh...yes. I’m moving in today. I wondered if…if you could please let me in.”

“You’re moving in,” the voice repeated, slowly. “Are you sure?”

Betty didn’t quite know how to respond to this. All in all, this exchange was not going well.

“Ahh,” she said, uncertainly. “Maybe I have the wrong apartment? I'm...I’m so sorry to bother you.”

Betty was just about to hang up when she heard a much more familiar voice through the intercom, sounding rather more distant. “Betty!”. The exclamation was followed immediately by muffled laughter and the sound of conversation in the background.

“Oh my god. Jughead, seriously, piss off,” Betty heard Veronica say. “Betty, I’m so sorry. Please come up, I’ll unlock the door.”

“Thanks Veronica,” Betty breathed, relieved. She waited for the click of the lock, and then pulled the door open and wheeled her suitcase inside.

Betty was still feeling confused, slightly flustered and more than a little apprehensive by the time she made it to the top of the elevator. She could hear voices on the other side of the apartment door, accompanied by bursts of laughter. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

Veronica opened the door almost immediately, and welcomed her with a warm smile.

“Oh my god, Betty, hi! I’m so sorry. That was Jughead. Itt’s okay he was just joking around,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Come in.”

“Hi Veronica, nice to see you again,” Betty smiled gratefully, following her inside.

The apartment was just as nice as she’d remembered. The doors to the balcony were wide open, and sunlight was streaming in through several open windows. Noticeably different, however, was the vast amount of belongings stacked in the middle of the room. There were some boxes, several racks of clothes and multiple suitcases.

“I’m so sorry about the mess. We’re in the middle of unpacking,” Veronica explained, picking her way, through the maze in front of them and hurriedly trying to clear a path for Betty. “Betty, I want you to meet my boyfriend Archie. Archie, this is Betty.”

Betty looked up in the direction Veronica was gesturing. Archie was tall and athletic looking, with vivid red hair and a friendly face. He held out his hand to her.

“Hi Betty, nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand.

“Yeah, nice to meet you too, Archie,” she smiled.

“All sorted to move in, then?” he asked her, conversationally.

“I am indeed,” she replied. “I’ve only got the one suitcase, at this stage, so it’s all been pretty straightforward.”

“Good stuff. Come down and see your room,” he said, beckoning for her to follow him down the hall.

Betty’s room was compact, but it was fully furnished and made good use of the available space. She was pleased to see the room got a decent amount of afternoon sun. Archie was explaining the layout of the rest apartment in more detail, when a loud crash sounded from the next door room.

Archie snorted. “Alright Jughead?”, he called through the wall. There was no answer. He turned to Betty, grinning. “Come and meet Jughead.”

Betty followed Archie out into the hallway, and along to the next bedroom. Rather like the living area of the apartment, the room was in a haphazard state of half finished unpacking. Piles of belongings were scattered throughout the room and over the bed, and Betty recognised a large box of books spilled all over the floor as the source of the loud crash she and Archie had heard only moments before.

In the middle of this chaos, was a tall dark haired guy, who Betty could only assume was Jughead. Betty couldn’t help but notice his hair was primarily obscured by a beanie, and thought this a little odd given how summery it was outside.

“Betty,” Archie announced. “This is Jughead.”

Jughead looked up and made direct eye contact with her. “Betty Cooper,” he said. “At long last we meet.”

Betty was a little taken aback by this as a greeting. “Hi!” she said, holding back a nervous laugh. “Nice to meet you”.

He grinned back at her. “I understand you’re here for moving day. Let me tell you something about moving day, Betty, it sucks. Moving apartment sucks. No one should ever move. Look at all this shit. Where did I even get it all from?” He brandished dramatically around the room.

“That said,” he turned back to her. “Welcome to “Veronica and Archie’s apartment”,” he said, his fingers sketching quote marks around the phrase.

Archie picked up a nearby pillow and threw it at Jughead, who ducked. “OK, that’s enough interaction with Jughead for the week,” Archie said, backing out into the hall. Betty turned to leave also, smiling at Jughead as she did so, who waved and called out dramatically “Bye Betty!”.

“Jughead thinks it’s hilarious that Veronica’s parents bought her an apartment for us to live in,” Archie explained, as they returned to the living area.

Veronica looked up as they re-entered the room. “He won’t think it’s so hilarious when we kick him out,” she admonished.

Archie laughed. “He’s actually a really good guy, Betty. Just a bit of a smartass. You'll get used to him”

Betty felt like this was rather an understatement, but was not about to say so. “He seems friendly,” she said, settling for a neutral response.

“Well, you’ll have plenty of time to get to know him. Veronica and I are out with my parents for dinner tonight. But yeah, you’re welcome to start unpacking. Don’t feel like you have to hang around here and engage in our discussion about Veronica’s hoarding habits.”

Betty smiled at Veronica’s look of indignation. “Thanks, I do have a bit of organising to do,” she admitted. She grabbed her suitcase and headed back down the hallway.

 

***

 

Several hours later, Betty’s suitcase was fully unpacked, her bed made, and her clothes hung neatly in her closet. She liked her room already. Dinner time was fast approaching, and Betty supposed she had better head out and find some food. She’d heard Veronica and Archie leaving to go and meet up with his parents, but assumed Jughead was still home. She was a little nervous as to what they would have to talk about now that it was just the two of them, but figured she was going to have to do her best.

Sure enough, she found Jughead busy in the kitchen.

“Hey, Jughead,” she said cautiously.

He turned around. “Betty Cooper,” he acknowledged, closing the fridge door with a flourish. “How’s the unpacking going. Are you winning?”

Betty wasn’t sure why he kept using her full name. “All finished,” she said, hopping up onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “How about you?”

Jughead leaned back against the fridge, folded his arms, and gave the question consideration. “I feel like it could be going better. I don’t have as much shit as Veronica, but I there’s nothing like moving day to reveal just how many of your belongings are superfluous.”

Betty nodded slowly. “I guess that’s one benefit of a limited luggage allowance.”

“There is truth in what you say. Veronica mentioned you’d only just moved here. What brings you the bright lights and the big city?”

“I have a graduate journalism role starting on Monday,” Betty explained.

“A writer, huh,” Jughead said thoughtfully, leveraging his weight off the fridge and moving towards the pantry.

“I guess so, yeah.”

“Are you excited?”

“I am, I’m looking forward to it.”

Jughead was rifling through items in the pantry. “Do you know anyone else at the company?”

“No, I don't.”

“Is it the kind of graduate role you were looking for all along?”

“I... I hope so.”

“Did you move here to you follow your dreams, Betty?”

“Uhh..” Betty was starting to feel like he was enjoying this conversation a lot more than she was. “You ask a lot of questions.”

Jughead, having found what he was looking for, closed the pantry and piled what appeared to be sandwich ingredients on the bench in front of her. “I know,” he said smiling, his eyes twinkling. “Especially considering it’s you that’s supposed to be the journalist.”

Betty opened her mouth to reply and then closed it again, lost for words yet again. She decided it was time for a change of subject.

“Veronica tells me you’re a lawyer?” she tried, finding it difficult to believe this as she said it.

“Did she tell you Archie was a lawyer too?”

This did not answer her question at all. Betty cast her mind back to her first meeting with Veronica. “No,” she said, thinking about this carefully. “She told me he was a musician.”

Jughead laughed. “That’s cute,” he said, pausing to take a bite of his freshly prepared sandwich. “You should ask him about his law degree. It’s a really popular topic with the Lodge family. Not at all controversial.”

Betty stared at him, bewildered. She had a feeling she would not be asking Archie about his supposed law degree. In fact, she had a feeling she shouldn’t have brought up the topic of lawyers at all. And also, who ate sandwiches at this hour? There was only one exit strategy.

“I’m going to pop off and buy some groceries,” she announced, standing up.

A look of realisation crossed Jughead’s face, and he put his sandwich down. “Oh! You don’t have any food. Sorry. Do you want me to make you sandwich?”

Betty laughed, touched by the gesture. “Thanks, Jughead. But I have to go and get food anyway, so don’t worry.”

Jughead shrugged. “If you’re sure. Are you sure?”

Betty looked at him, unable to stop herself smiling. “Yes. I’m sure.”

Jughead shrugged. “I’m just checking. You didn’t seem very sure about moving in.”

Betty blushed slightly, remembering their conversation over the intercom. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she said, grabbing her bag and moving to leave.

Jughead saluted her in farewell as she looked back at him before leaving the room.

Betty closed the door apartment door behind her, and leaned against the wall, smiling, while she waited for the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews guys. Let me know if you're still interested to see where this goes :-)


	3. The Graduate

Betty woke up the next morning with a sinking feeling in her stomach. This was not an uncommon occurrence for her, so she was not especially bothered by it. Today was the very first day of her new job. Her uneasy feeling was a combination of nerves and anticipation, and the culmination of a seemingly endless build up to what people had been telling her was the start of the rest of her life.

She was a graduate now. No longer could she embrace the carefree student lifestyle and deny all adult responsibility. She was a grown up with a real job and her own apartment and a to do list which included mundane things like contacting an insurance company.

But her first day in her new job was going to be nerve-racking regardless of all of these things, so there was really only one thing for it. Betty threw back the covers and busied herself with getting ready for the day. She had selected her outfit the night before and carefully packed her bag with all kinds of things she probably wouldn’t need but wanted to have about her person anyway. Just in case.

Somewhat to Betty’s surprise, none of her roommates seemed to be up yet. The apartment was completely silent, the kitchen empty. She was not especially bothered by this. It was nice to be alone with her thoughts as she mentally prepared for her day. All the same, she had expected the others might be getting ready for work also. Perhaps they kept different hours to her, she wondered. She made a mental note to query this later on – it was good to have questions up her sleeve. Veronica, Archie and, in particular, Jughead had so many questions for her she had barely had a chance to ask them anything about themselves. Betty found this both amusing and a little exhausting.

She was just gathering her things and was about to leave when Jughead shuffled into the kitchen, yawning and looking bleary eyed. “Hi,” he said, in the kind of deflated voice that Betty may have been a little offended by had it not been first thing on a Monday morning.

“Good morning,” she said politely. She couldn’t help but notice he was still wearing his beanie, and found her self wondering if he had slept in it.

Jughead placed both hands on the counter and stared at her across the breakfast bar.

“It’s very early,” he said bluntly. And then, as an afterthought, “How excited are you to go to work today?”

Betty couldn’t tell if this was a rhetorical question. “I would say I’m mostly nervous,” she admitted. “Hopefully it will be okay.”

“Ahh, Betty,” he said sagely. “Don’t be nervous. You will never have less responsibility or fewer expectations than on the very first day of a new job. Today you just have to meet a lot of people and set up some passwords and get lots of free shit. Like stationary.”

Betty paused momentarily to think about this, realising it was probably true.

“Save being nervous for tomorrow. Or maybe even Wednesday,” he continued. “By then you’ll probably have forgotten at least one of the passwords, and your angst will be much more justified.”

Betty chewed her lip, trying to hold back a smiled. He had a point. “I’ll see how it goes. I hope you have a good day too.”

Jughead grinned at her as she walked out. “Good luck, Betty Cooper.”

 

***

 

By the time Betty reached midday, she had to admit Jughead had been right. She really needn’t have been so worried. Everyone had been very welcoming, and she still remembered all the passwords she’d been asked to set up that morning. Betty was also pleased to have discovered another graduate was starting in her division that day.

Katelyn was friendly and outgoing, with the kind of confidence that Betty often wished she possessed herself. Katelyn, Betty learned, had grown up locally. Consequently, she was enthusiastic about showing her around. As much as Betty found her a little intimidating, she was comforted in having someone else who was also new to the role and who seemed friendly.

The afternoon passed by just as easily, with Katelyn and Betty attending an introductory seminar and then joining several others in their division for a meeting. Before Betty knew it, her first day was over and it was time to go home. Not only had it not been completely disastrous, but Betty had actually enjoyed herself.

She and Katelyn walked the short distance back to the Precinct apartment complex along the waterfront, with Katelyn pointing out various landmarks as they went. Having grown up in the city, Katelyn still lived with her family, and so was very impressed with Betty’s new living arrangement.

“You live in Precinct? That new apartment complex?” she asked, amazed.

Betty nodded. “Yeah, I just moved in over the weekend. One of the roommates, her parents own the apartment. So the rent is surprisingly affordable.”

“What are your roommates like?”

Betty thought about this for a moment. “They’re really nice,” she said truthfully. “There’s a couple and one other guy. I think they’ve all been friends for a while, so I’m very much the new person. It’s quite intense.”

Katelyn was so gregarious herself that Betty wasn’t sure she would fully comprehend this observation. However, to Katelyn’s credit, she nodded understandingly. “I’m sure it will get easier,” she said kindly. “Is he cute?" she added, absent mindedly. “The other guy?”

Betty considered this for a moment, stopping outside Precinct and turning to face Katelyn. “Uhh...” she said, blankly. “He’s…interesting. I don’t know. He talks so much that keeping up with him is kind of exhausting,” she said, realising this sounded very vague.

“Sounds like he has a thing for you,” Katelyn said matter-of-factly.

This hadn’t occurred to Betty. “I don’t think so,” she said uncertainly. “I think he just talks a lot in general.”

Katelyn raised her eyebrows. “Well.” she said. “I guess time will tell." She veered off to cross the street, calling, "Have a good evening, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

 

***

 

Betty arrived home with a spring in her step. All in all, her day had been a success. And if she counted the accomplishment of moving day yesterday, that was two days in a row.

As she opened the apartment door, she could hear Veronica’s voice coming from the kitchen, and recognised the tone in her voice as one of exasperation.

“Jughead, stop it. I have no words for how annoying that is.”

Betty entered the room to see that Veronica and Jughead were both in the kitchen. Veronica was busily dicing vegetables. Next to her, perched on the kitchen bench, sat Jughead. He was stirring the contents of a frying pan with one hand, and bouncing a basketball intermittently on the kitchen tiles with the other. Betty suspected the later activity of being the source of Veronica’s exasperation.

“Hi” Betty said cheerily, announcing her arrival.

Veronica stopped what she was doing and turned around. “Betty! How was your first day?”

“It was really good, thank you!” Betty’s smile revealed all.

As if planned, Veronica and Jughead abandoned their respective cooking duties and high fived in triumphant celebration.

“Betty Cooper, reporting live!” Jughead announced, adopting what Betty thought was a fairly good impression of a broadcasting voice. He punctuated this by rebounding the basketball off the side of the pantry.

Veronica huffed in frustration. She reached over and snatched the basketball from him, tossing it across the kitchen in Betty’s direction. Much to her surprise, Betty managed to catch it.

Veronica pointed at Jughead. “No basketball in the kitchen.”

Jughead shook his head in indignance. “Don’t worry Betty,” he said, reassuringly. “We can still play basketball in the kitchen when Veronica’s not home.”

Veronica rolled her eyes and went back to dicing her vegetables.

Betty hopped onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar, still holding the basketball. “How was work for you guys?”

“Mine was so great,” Jughead said dryly. “I love the law.”

Betty, still riding on a wave of confidence from the success of her day, took the chance to broach something else. “Did you wear your hat to work?”

Veronica snorted in amusement. Jughead, however, looked greatly surprised. He paused, considering this unexpected new development in their dynamic.

“Yes Betty, I did. Thank you for asking.” Jughead, still watching Betty suspiciously, then added, “How about you Veronica, how are the books going for Papa Lodge?”

“Nothing new to report,” Veronica said airily, tossing the vegetables into the frying pan on the stove, and resuming Jughead’s stirring duties.

“Where’s Archibald?” Jughead asked. “I miss him.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. He’s at the gym.”

“Ahh,” Jughead said, this time looking knowingly at Betty. “Making gains.”

“Betty we made enough dinner for you, do you want some?” Veronica offered.

Betty smiled gratefully. “I would love some. Thanks Veronica.”

Jughead raised his arms in mock indignance, and Betty corrected herself quickly. “And Jughead! Thank you!”

Betty helped assemble the last of their meal. Shortly afterwards, Archie returned from the gym, arriving just in time for them to sit down and eat together. Dinner time conversation was dominated by a lively but heated debate as to whether Jughead and Archie should be allowed to play basketball in the kitchen. Veronica put up a strong fight. But by the time Jughead and Archie were wrapping up their argument, Betty was all for it. This was due in part to Jughead’s alarmingly convincing skills of persuasion, but also founded somewhat in the pure hilarity of the situation. Suddenly, all of them had an inside joke. And Betty was part of it.

As she readied herself for bed later that evening, Betty found herself actively looking forward to tomorrow. It was a new, unfamiliar feeling, and Betty was a little wary of it. She had hoped her decision to uproot her life and try something new would lead to better and brighter things, but had not expected everything to come together so seamlessly.

She padded out to the kitchen to get some water, and was surprised to find Jughead still seated at the kitchen table. He was typing one his laptop, but looked up as she entered the room. He raised his eyebrows at her in acknowledgement.

Betty, half expecting another barrage of questions, braced herself as she poured herself a glass of water. But Jughead appeared to be concentrating intently and didn’t say anything.

And then, sure enough, “Don’t forget those passwords over night, Betty.”

She finished her water hastily, and looked at him. “I won’t,” she said pointedly.

He gave her a thumbs up, closed his laptop and stood up to leave. “Night, Cooper,” he said, disappearing down the hall.

Betty’s heart skipped a beat.


	4. The Housewarming Party

By the time the end of the week rolled around, Betty had to admit she was feeling a little less spirited. While her responsibilities at her new job were starting to become a little clearer and seemed manageable, the necessary adjustment between studying and working full time was becoming increasingly apparent. The working week, she had realised, was rather longer than that of any student. All the same, she’d been told by her manager she was doing a good job, and that had to count for something. It was reassuring. And having successfully made it through an entire week, she was now at liberty to enjoy the weekend. She was particularly looking forward to a sleep in.

Betty returned to the apartment on Friday evening a little weary, and somewhat uncertain as to whether anyone else would be home. She was immediately greeted, however, by Veronica, Archie and Jughead. They were seated next to each other along the breakfast bar, such that when Betty entered the room, she felt rather like she had stumbled upon an interview panel. This impression was further reinforced by Jughead announcing her arrival.

“Betty Cooper. We’re so pleased you could join us.”

“You’re welcome,” she said slowly, dropping her bag on the counter and trying to process the fact that Jughead was wearing a suit. She wondered briefly if Jughead always wore a suit to work. She supposed he must do, given his profession. Somehow she had not encountered this until just now, and the juxtaposition of the formal attire and his beanie certainly couldn’t escape her notice.

“It’s so people think I know what I’m doing,” Jughead said matter-of-factly. Betty abruptly stopped staring, realising with embarrassment he must know exactly what she was thinking.

“That’s…worrying.”

Archie laughed. “Agreed, Betty.”

Veronica, sat between the two of them, looked up from her laptop, having until now been typing furiously.

“Betty we’re having a housewarming party this weekend,” she said smiling broadly.

Betty was confused by this. “As in…tomorrow? On Saturday?”

“Hah!” Jughead stood up. “Another voice of reason! Betty is clearly also sceptical about the short notice.”

“I didn’t say -“

“You didn’t have to,” Jughead interrupted. “Archie hasn’t bothered to take the minutes for this meeting - classic Archie. But Betty I can tell you that, thus far, controversial points include the date, the time, the name of the function and the guest list.”

Archie looked up from his phone. “I don’t find any of these things at all controversial,” he said robotically, glancing warily at Veronica.

Jughead looked at Archie with utter disdain, but Veronica appeased him with a wide smile. “Betty,” Veronica continued, “do you have anyone you want to invite?”

Betty thought about this for a moment. “To be honest, I don’t really know anyone other than you guys yet. Maybe my friend Katelyn from work?”

“Does Katelyn like planning things for 5 minutes in advance?” Jughead asked very seriously. “If so, we should definitely invite her, because I don’t think anyone else we know will be able to come.”

Veronica ignored him. “Sure! We’d love Katelyn to come. I’ll add her to the Facebook invite.”

“Is there anything in particular you need me to do to help organise?” Betty asked her. She wasn't exactly sure what Veronica was planning, but did want to be helpful.

Veronica flipped her laptop shut. “Thanks for offering, Betty,” she said, staring pointedly at Jughead who seemed to have admitted defeat, and was now eating an orange from the fruit bowl in front of them. “But Archie and I have it all under control. Don’t we? Archie?”

“Yes. We do,” Archie replied in the same robotic voice, clearly without any idea what he was agreeing to.

Jughead looked at Betty and shook his head despairingly.

 

***

 

When Veronica had proposed a housewarming party, Betty hadn’t been entirely sure what she'd had in mind. Her student experiences of housewarming parties had been fairly limited – she’d tended to avoid large drunken gatherings where possible. However, she had experienced enough to know that such events tended to be fairly destructive. The apartment Veronica’s parents had purchased, and indeed all of its furnishings, was in pristine condition. Betty didn’t imagine it to be the kind of environment where one would host an event of that nature.

Furthermore, Betty couldn’t help but wonder if Jughead was right about the possibility of people not being able to come on such short notice. Katelyn, for example, had come back and said she would have loved to attend, but unfortunately she had already made other plans. Jughead had been smug about this at the time Veronica had discussed it, but had later surprised Betty by telling her he was sorry Katelyn couldn’t make it. He had then gone on to reassure her that they would introduce her to their friends. Betty was grateful for this, and wondered if he knew she was a little apprehensive about the prospect of spending the night with lots of new people who were already friends. That was assuming, of course, some of them could actually come.

It wasn’t until later that day when Veronica announced “the caterers” had arrived that Betty started to realise she had significantly underestimated the scale of the event. Several bunches of helium balloons arrived shortly after this, and before Betty knew it she and Jughead had been assigned the task of distributing them around the room. Unsurprisingly, Jughead got both of them in trouble by breathing the helium from several of the balloons and proceeding to narrate Betty’s decorating activities. Betty felt bad about irritating Veronica, but had struggled to refrain from laughing; it was funny. She’d noticed that was starting to become a regular occurrence whenever Jughead was around.

She’d beckoned him aside at one stage when Veronica had been out of the room. “I didn’t realise this was going to be such an event,” she whispered.

Jughead feigned shock. “You didn’t realise Veronica wanted to throw a fully catered, elaborately decorated celebratory event with only one day’s notice?” he whispered back.

Betty grimaced slightly. “What if no one can make it?”

Jughead abandoned all pretence of hushed conversation. “Don’t worry. Nobody says ‘No’ to Veronica Lodge,” he said mater-of-factly. “Except maybe Katelyn," he added, as an afterthought. Betty laughed.

Archie had just finished unpacking the glassware that had been delivered when the intercom rang, signalling the arrival of their first guest. As Jughead had predicted, Veronica had successfully achieved a substantial turnout. Betty was very impressed. Veronica was clearly a seasoned hostess, welcoming guests, offering them drinks and chatting animatedly about the layout of the new apartment. Archie, too, looked to be in his element. And true to his word, Jughead had gone to great lengths to introduce Betty to many of their friends, making sure she wasn’t left standing alone in the corner.

“This is our new friend Betty. She came with the apartment," he would explain seriously.

Betty couldn’t help but notice how engaging he was. His previously vehement opposition to the event had lead her to believe he wasn’t as sociable as Veronica and Archie. Clearly, she had been wrong about that. She watched him chat animatedly with several of the guests while she briefly helped clear away some of the used glassware with Archie.

“He’s full of surprises, I know,” Archie said, following her gaze. “Secretly loves a good party.”

Betty watched him a moment longer before turning back to Archie. “How long have you known each other?” she asked.

“We went to college together. Law school. So about six years I would say.”

Betty nodded thoughtfully. “But you’re involved in the music industry now, right?”

“Yup. The legal profession wasn’t for me, in the end. Much to the distaste of Veronica’s parents. In case you hadn’t noticed,” he said brandishing around the room, “the Lodge family is pretty successful. They think I lack ambition. And maybe I do.”

“I don’t think you lack ambition, Archie,” Betty said quietly.

“Thanks Betty,” he said good naturedly. “I suppose we can’t all be as ambitious as Jughead.”

“Jughead’s ambitious?”

Archie laughed at this. “Jughead is probably the most ambitious person I know. Don't let him fool you, Betty.”

Betty looked back over at Jughead, now regaling what was seemingly a hilarious story, and realised he already had.

 

***

 

Betty had been, as always, careful not to drink too much champagne. She did not usually drink at all, but in this instance had settled for one glass in the interests of feeling a little less conspicuous. The events that transpired shortly after her conversation with Archie seemed to her to be an extraordinary injustice. She was just helping Archie clear the last of some used plates, when she stepped back slightly and knocked over one of the caterer’s crates of glassware. There was an almighty crash, followed by the clinking of glass shards as 32 champagne glasses shattered over the kitchen tiles.

The room went silent.

Betty froze, and felt her face go a violent shade of red. She could feel the eyes of every single person in the room on her. Archie, too, had frozen beside her.

After a moment, Archie sprung back into action. He cleared his throat. “Don’t worry guys, just a small accident. As you were!”

Several people, including Veronica, approached the kitchen trying to offer assistance. Archie shooed them away, assuring everyone it was all under control. The hum of chatter and laughter slowly started to return, and it was only then that Betty realised that she still hadn’t moved and wasn’t really breathing.

“Betty…Betty?" Archie was saying, his voice full of concern. “Are you okay?”

Betty looked up at him. “I’m so sorry, Archie," she implored. "I’m so sorry.” She bent down to inspect the damage.

“Heyy, Betty, it was an accident. It doesn’t matter. We can just sort it out with the catering company tomorrow.” Archie put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Really though, are you okay?”

Betty didn’t think she was. She was struggle to comprehend how her evening had changed so dramatically within the space of a few minutes. “I think I just got a bit of a fright,” she mumbled.

“It’s okay. I’ll clean this up, you can go and take a break if you need to.”

Betty nodded numbly, lost for words. She slipped out of the room and down the hall into her room, pulling the door to behind her. Betty’s heart was still beating very fast. She sat down on the edge of her bed, and exhaled slowly. Everything had been going so well, and she didn’t understand how her night had ended this way. She thought she was over such panicky reactions, but was now dealing with the realisation that maybe it was something she would never fully outgrow. Archie probably thought she was crazy, now.

There was a light knock on the door. Jughead poked his head through the ajar door.

Betty tried to reassemble her earlier, easy-going demeanour. It didn’t work.

“You alright?”

Betty didn’t say anything. She couldn’t find the words, didn’t know the answer, couldn't look him in the eye.

Jughead pushed the door a little further open and came into her room, closing it behind him. He squatted down in front of her, looking directly up at Betty so she couldn’t avoid his gaze.

Betty breathed out shakily. “Yeah, sorry. I think I’m just... really tired.”

Jughead was still looking directly up at her, and Betty had the uncomfortable feeling he could see right through her and her empty, hollow words.

“That’s okay,” he said, finally, his voice gentle. “I can tell the others you’ve retired for the night.”

Betty nodded, grateful, but reluctant to say anything else for fear she might start crying. “Thanks,” she croaked.

Jughead stood back up, surveying her for a moment longer, and then held out his hand in a relaxed fist. She hesitated a moment, and then reached out and bumped her knuckles against his. He turned to leave, and as he did, Betty felt him brush the top of her head lightly with his hand. He closed the door behind him, and Betty was left alone with her thoughts once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love! I'm really glad you're enjoying. I'm sorry I haven't been able to reply to each of you individually, but please know that I appreciate each and everyone of you and your comments make my heart sing xx


	5. The Routine

In the weeks that followed Veronica’s housewarming party, Betty felt herself gradually slip into more of a routine. She was becoming more and more comfortable in her role at work, and had been assigned her first major feature article to assist with. This was both exciting and a little nerve-racking. Beyond the working week and it’s associated adult responsibilities, Betty had also come to feel a little more settled in the city. It was still vast and bright and bustling, but Betty was now far more familiar with the area and the local amenities. She’d eaten out on several occasions, had regularly frequented the nearby convenience store and also identified her preferred coffee shops. She’d developed a comforting sense of attachment, and couldn’t help but entertain the idea that maybe one day she might start to feel like she belonged.

The unfortunate incident of the shattered champagne glasses was not brought up again – other than by Archie, who had briefly mentioned in an offhand way that he had spoken with the catering company and resolved the issue. Betty was grateful for this. She didn’t particularly want to relive the embarrassment. More to the point, she was relieved not to have to justify what was likely perceived as slight overreaction. That said, she had a feeling Veronica, Archie and Jughead must have discussed the matter in private. Their united silence on the matter seemed to indicate they’d decided it was best not to bring it up. The thought of them reaching this conclusion made her a little uneasy. That was the problem with people catching glimpses of who you really were.

All of this aside, the thing Betty had been most grateful for in recent weeks was their friendship. Their dynamic was intriguing to Betty, considering the four of them had not ever actually partaken in any activities outside the confines of the apartment. But returning from work of an evening to find the three of them there, reflecting on their days, was almost her favourite thing. They felt like coming home.

Nobody’s day ever seemed to be more eventful or to require more group input than Jughead’s. And when he’d run out of things to remark upon, he was more than ready to stir up a bit of controversy. Topics this evening had been wide-ranging, including everything from the arrangement of the furniture in the apartment, his new business proposal and now Veronica’s online shopping habit.

“What purchases have you made today, Veronica?” he asked conversationally, as Veronica and Archie cleared the evening’s dishes away.

Veronica gave him a withering look, and elected not to answer this.

Jughead turned to Betty, who was perched on her favourite stool at the breakfast bar, and gave her a knowing look. “She definitely bought something.”

Betty was inclined to think this was probably true. Veronica seemed to receive more parcels in a week than Betty had received all year. She knew she wasn’t the only one who held this view, because Archie and Jughead tended to drop snide comments about it fairly regularly.

“She bought a blender,” Archie said disloyally, grinning and backing away from the sink as Veronica shot him a filthy look.

Jughead looked very pleased with this information. “A blender. I see. And what sets this blender apart from all the other blenders in store? Or, for that matter, the blender we already have?”

Veronica was still reserving her right to remain silent, an approach Betty personally had not observed to be very effective in fending off Jughead’s confrontations. She’d been a little bewildered at first by this obsession with Veronica’s spending habits, but had reached the conclusion it was likely born primarily out of the two of them sharing very different views about money.

Money had clearly never been an issue in Veronica’s life. As such, she spent it freely and willingly without much in the way of consideration. Jughead, however, was unusually interested in minimising his expenditure. He was surprisingly non-materialistic for someone in a profession with the potential for great wealth. Betty was not sure what the underlying cause of this prudent approach was, but did suspect there of being a reason.

“Maybe we should set up an online forum to help Veronica address this issue.” Jughead was clearly unperturbed by the lack of reaction he was getting. “I’m also thinking we need a YouTube channel.”

“What would you call it?” Betty asked, mildly interested.

“Things Veronica Bought.”

Archie sniggered, and Betty held back a smile.

“It would have to be a weekly thing,” Jughead went on pragmatically. “We simply wouldn’t have the time to do daily real time updates. Some of us have billable hours to do and feature articles to proof and songs to write.”

Veronica’s demeanour had become increasingly irritable over the course of the evening, and she had now grown tired of Jughead’s games. She finished wiping the kitchen bench with a flourish. “Night, Betty,” she called, pointedly ignoring the others as she disappeared haughtily down the hall. Her departure was punctuated by the slam of her and Archie’s room.

Jughead leaned on the breakfast bar next to Betty and looked across at Archie, who was standing against the fridge, arms crossed.

“Dude. Remember when Veronica bought that tropical fish tank?”

Archie shook his head, wearing a pained expression. “What, you mean the small to medium sized aquarium? Honestly, I try not to.”

Jughead laughed. “I guess the blender is compact. And requires less maintenance. And it doesn’t need feeding,” he concluded. Satisfied with his efforts for the evening, he gathered his things and then traipsed down the hall.

Betty looked across the breakfast bar at Archie.

“Would she ever actually kick him out?” she asked, referring to Veronica’s threat earlier in the evening. Jughead had insisted on moving some of the furniture in the living area, apparently having recently read an article online about good Feng Shui.

“Nah,” said Archie. “She might kick me out though.”

Betty laughed.

“Why is he so obsessed with the whole shopping thing…”

Archie hesitated a moment before answering. “Jughead had a pretty rough upbringing. He didn’t come from a lot and I think he finds it hard to reconcile Veronica’s world. He’s made to where he is today through hard work and determination. He trades in intellect and wit. Money is just security to him.”

Betty nodded slowly, digesting this. It was a mystery to her how Jughead managed to come across as being so open, while simultaneously revealing almost nothing about himself.

“But also because he just can’t help it,” Archie went on, shrugging. “He likes making people laugh. So as long as he has an audience…”

Betty got the distinct impression he was referring to her, and suddenly felt a little uncomfortable. She stood up, trying to look nonchalant. “Right. Well, I guess I better head off to bed too. Big day tomorrow,” she said lamely.

“See you tomorrow, Betty.” Archie’s expression was barely readable, but she thought she could see the faintest hint of a smile.

 

***

 

“Does he have a girlfriend?”

Katelyn was staring at Betty intently as she surveyed the avocados. Of late, they’d taken to meeting up early on Sunday morning to go to a yoga class, and then peruse the fresh produce for sale at the local farmer’s market. Betty liked the routine of this, and felt it typically set her up for a productive and fulfilling day. The thing about farewelling her academic days was that she now had to actively cultivate weekend activities if she wanted to accomplish something.

Betty selected the most ripe of the avocados and handed some cash to the person behind the stand. “No,” she said, in answer to Katelyn’s question. She then thought about this a little more, and added, “at least, not that I know of.” Given many of her other impressions of Jughead had proved to be inaccurate, Betty was hardly in a position to make assumptions about his love life.

“You live with him,” Katelyn said in disbelief. “How can you not know?!”

“I told you! He’s…unpredictable!”

“Clearly I need to meet him for myself,” Katelyn concluded.

Betty couldn’t disagree with this. Her idle conversations with Katelyn about her roommates always seemed to end up fixated on the anomaly that was Jughead. “Well, I did ask him if he wanted to come to the market.”

“And he said no?”

“He told me he couldn’t come because he didn’t believe in active wear, or kale, or pressed juice. So, make of that what you will.”

Katelyn stood there in her yoga pants with a bunch of kale in her arms and tried to reconcile this. “He sounds like an asshole.”

Betty shrugged, reluctant to engage in any more conversation about Jughead, because it was confusing. She knew he wasn’t an asshole, but it was true that he made a point of being deliberating incendiary at times. While she could see there was no malice behind this, she did find it to be one of his more insufferable traits. Equally, she had started to notice that every now and then, he would do something particularly sweet or say something especially charismatic, and Betty would get an odd but not entirely unpleasant swooping sensation in her stomach. She was not foolish enough, however, to think that he reserved this behaviour solely for her. She’d seen him unleash this charm on various other friends she had met through him, Veronica and Archie, with no obvious ulterior motive. Unsettling as it was, it seemed to merely serve as part of his personality.

The had moved on to the floral section of the market by now, and Betty selected several bunches of freshly cut flowers, thinking they would look nice on the table in the living area. “You should come over for lunch,” Betty suggested.

“Mmkay, sounds good,” Katelyn said. “But will I be allowed to I bring the kale?”

Betty laughed, nodding. “Definitely bring the kale.”

 

***

 

Betty and Katelyn arrived back at Precinct, their arms laden with brown paper bags of produce and Betty’s bunches of flowers. Betty busied herself finding a vase, and then with sorting the fruit and vegetables. While she did so, Katelyn conducted a thorough inspection of the apartment, finally opening the balcony door and poking her head out, staring at the city sprawled before her.

“Can I move in?” Katelyn asked, closing the balcony door and coming back across to the kitchen area. She fished through one the bags on the bench for an apple.

“There’s a small amount of room available in the linen cupboard. If you’re feeling compact.”

“Perfect.” Katelyn took a bite of her apple. “Seriously, though, how well off is your flatmate that her family just bought this for her?” she marvelled.

“Yeah, pretty crazy.”

Betty heard the apartment door open and the sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen. “Oh my god,” she heard Jughead say, his voice incredulous. “Betty has a friend.”

Betty gave him a disapproving look. “Ha ha. Very funny,” she said dryly. “Jughead, this is Katelyn. Katelyn, Jughead.”

Jughead reached out to shake Katelyn’s hand. “Nice to meet you. We were sorry you couldn’t make it to Veronica’s housewarming party.”

Katelyn looked surprised that he’d remembered this, but nodded and said, “I was disappointed not to be there. Sounded like a great night.”

“How was yoga Betty?” Jughead asked, inspecting the contents of some of the brown paper bags. “Are you zen as fuck now?”

“I’m always zen,” Betty said. It was a blatant lie, and she knew Jughead knew it was a lie because his eyes narrowed slightly. She cracked some eggs into a bowl. “I’m making a quiche for lunch. Would you like some?”

Jughead looked sceptical. “Are you going to put all of these vegetables in it?”

“Not all of them.”

“Just the kale,” Katelyn interjected.

Jughead looked over at her suspiciously and watched her for a moment.

Betty smiled. “I won’t put kale in the quiche, but yes, there will be vegetables.”

“Ok. Capiche. Yes please,” Jughead decided. “Betty why don’t you make quiche when Katelyn’s not here?”

Betty thought this accusation was a little uncalled for considering his prior reluctance to commit to eating it. She frowned at him.

Jughead turned back to Katelyn. “Betty hates me,” he joked.

Katelyn didn't miss a beat. “I know,” she deadpanned

Jughead had obviously not been expecting this as an answer, because he looked a little forlorn. But Katelyn wasn’t finished with him yet.

“Is Jughead your real name?”

Betty stood back up from popping the quiche in the oven, and turned to see if he would answer. He was staring at Katelyn, again a little caught off guard.

“I would not want to confirm or deny that.”

Katelyn was clearly enjoying herself, but seemed to decide to let him away with this. She shrugged, indifferent. Jughead took a moment to decide his next course of action, and then to Betty’s surprised he disappeared down the hall, leaving Betty and Katelyn alone.

Katelyn leaned over the breakfast bar in Bettys’ direction. “Your roommate is crazy,” she whispered.

“I know,” Betty whispered back. “That’s what I’ve been telling you.”

“Also, he likes you.”

Betty winced as Katelyn’s voice grew louder, and shook her head furiously.

Katelyn shrugged, again, and picked her apple back up and took a bite. She chewed thoughtfully. “Crazy shit,” she remarked.


	6. The Heat Wave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

It was searingly hot. Betty had spent the entire day in an air-conditioned office, and when she stepped out of the building that evening she was hit immediately by a wave of heat. The air was still and muggy, and she felt a tinge of resentment at the idea of having to walk home in such extreme conditions.

The waterfront, with which she had become so familiar in her travels to and from the office, was calmer than Betty had ever seen. There was not a breath of wind. Endless numbers of people lined the walkway, seated on park benches and gathered in groups as they enjoyed the last of the sunshine. Betty stopped briefly to lean on a handrail and peer down into the water below. Her reflection stared back at her, resolute and unmoving. She reached up and smoothed down some of her more wayward pieces of hair, fighting a silent battle against the humidity.

She turned around, moving to re-join the walkway and accidentally walked directly into someone.

“Oh god…I’m so sorry,” Betty mumbled, reaching out apologetically. She tried to hurry off, embarrassed, and then did a double take and stopped.

It was Jughead.

Betty stared at him blankly. It was partly the heat. The heaviness of it was muddling her thoughts and making her feel slow and lazy. This was further compounded by the fact that Jughead was not wearing his hat, and that she had never actually encountered him outside the walls of the Precinct apartment.

“Hey,” he said, waving slowly in attempt to bring her out of her reverie.

Betty blinked. ‘Hi,” she breathed, still flustered.

“I thought that was you. You looked to be deep in contemplation.”

“Yeah, something like that.” They fell into step along side each other. Betty saw Jughead run his hand through his hair, looking equally bothered by the extreme conditions.

“Too hot for the hat, huh?”

Jughead glanced at her and smiled slightly in acknowledgement. “It’s too hot to be alive. I think the world is ending.”

Betty was starting to think the same thing. She could see people swimming in the water near the boat sheds that lined the waterfront. She’d been sceptical about this as a swimming location in the past, but never it had never looked like a more inviting prospect than right now. Jughead followed her gaze, appearing to consider the same thing.

“As much as I would love to throw myself in the harbour right now, you should know that there are far better swimming locations further out of the city.”

“Really.” Betty was surprised by this statement. Jughead certainly had not given any indication previously of having an interest in swimming - or any beach related activities for that matter. But then again, Betty supposed, neither had she.

“Yeah. It’s really nice along the coast, bit further up, around the bays. Veronica, Archie and I used to go to a really great spot after work last summer.”

“Can we go there tonight?”

“If you’d like. I imagine it will be pretty crowded. But Veronica and Archie would probably be keen."

Betty thought this was probably the most coherent conversation the two of them had yet. She wondered if it was because they’d stumbled across each other unintentionally and had been forced to figure out their dynamic in a different setting. Whatever it was, Betty found it strangely easy. There was none of the awkwardness she normally associated with encountering someone unexpectedly.

Precinct was in sight now, and Betty could think of nothing worse than spending an evening like this inside the apartment. “I would like that. Can we ask them?”

“Indeed." He winked. "Your wish is my command.”

 

***

 

Seated between Archie and Veronica in the back of an Uber a short time later, Betty felt rather like she was embarking on a family vacation. She and Jughead had arrived home to find the others also complaining about the heat. There had been a short, somewhat intense debate about their means of transport, but no discussion at all about the destination. That, it seemed, was not up for consideration. It was a given.

As a by product of this conversation, Betty had learned that Veronica actually had access to a car. This was news to Betty, who wasn’t even aware there was a car park in the building. Jughead had laughed at Betty’s surprise.

“The reason you’ve never heard about Veronica’s car is because she is the worst driver in the entire world,” he’d quipped. “It’s almost like she got her license in a raffle.”

Veronica had not denied this, instead trying to justify it by explaining she’d had a driver growing up.

Jughead rolled his eyes at this protestation, and flat out refused to take take Veronica’s car. “I want to us actually make it back to Precinct in one piece. I’ve already paid rent for the next fortnight. I don’t want that to go to waste,” he insisted. He had then proceeded to call an Uber, before herding them all out the door and into the elevator.

And now he was in the front seat, interrogating the driver about every aspect of his role as an Uber driver. Not content with having already discussed the company’s structure, he’d now moved on to querying the role's profitability, and the associated tax obligations. Veronica, Betty and Archie gave each other knowing looks as this conversation unfolded.

Even as they left the apartment, shortly before 6pm, there had not yet been a drop in the temperature. Betty was sincerely grateful for the car’s air conditioning. She watched the buildings disappear behind them as they left the central business district and followed the road that woundaround the coastline. She could see what Jughead meant when he’d referenced the change of scene. She’d been appreciative from the outset of relocating to a harbour-side city, but the expansive coast before them served only to amplify that.

Jughead had also been right, although she would forever be reluctant to admit that to him, in his prediction that it would be busy. It didn’t take long for them to reach their destination, but when they did they were met with unprecedented crowds. Everyone, it appeared, had had the same desperation to escape the heat trapped in the city.

In the name of efficiency, Betty was grateful she’d worn her swimsuit under her clothes. No sooner than their feet had made contact with the sand, Archie and Jughead bolted for the water. Veronica and Betty followed, not far behind them. Betty wasted no time in wading in and diving in gracefully as soon as the water was deep enough. It was pure relief feeling the cool water wash over her and run through her hair. She resurfaced to find Veronica right next to her and felt herself smile widely, genuine exhilaration flooding through her.

Betty had always loved the ocean. There was something the sand and the salt and the way the waves broke over her that calmed her thoughts, flushing out even the darkest corners of her mind. She flopped back into the ocean and floated on her back, staring up above. The sun was getting lower, slowly slipping towards the hills, but there remained not a single cloud in the sky. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Veronica lie down and float on her back next to her. She reached out, clasped Betty’s hand next to her and squeezed.

They floated there a moment longer until Veronica stood back up, pulling Betty up with her. “Better?” she asked.

Betty nodded at her, still smiling. “Can we do this after work every day?”

Veronica laughed, looking a little wistful. “I wish. I’m going to head back in now.”

Betty nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”

As Veronica waded back towards the shore, Betty heard her name. She turned, shifting her gaze to where a floating pontoon was anchored. She could see Archie and Jughead standing on it, waving her over.

She swam a little further out to reach the floating pontoon, and then stopped to tread water in front of it.

“Hey,” she said.

“Where’s Veronica?” Archie asked.

“She went back in.”

Betty paddled a little closer to the pontoon, aiming for the ladder, grasping onto it and hauled herself up. Jughead reached out and gave her his hand, helping her up out of the water. Betty felt the heat encompass her again. The water seemed to evaporate off her skin almost immediately, leaving behind it the tingle of salt. She reached up and wrung some of the salt water out of her hair.

“What an evening,” Jughead sighed, sounding unusually content.

All theee of them stood side by side, staring out at the horizon, looking into the hazy distance where the ocean met the sky in multiple shades of blue. Betty felt a million miles from work and responsibility and the ever present nagging of her conscience. If she could stand here forever, her toes curled over the edge over the pontoon with the water sloshing over them, she just might.

Jughead reached out abruptly and shoved Archie, who fell forward and splashed into the water particularly ungracefully. He resurfaced, shaking the water out of his hair, and scowled up at Jughead, who merely smirked.

“Bro,” Archie said, disgruntled, clearly feeling that had been unnecessary. He ducked back under the water, swimming around the pontoon, and headed back into shore.

Betty saw her chance. It was a fleeting moment, a brief window of opportunity as Jughead stood there complacently. He was on the edge of the pontoon, peering down at the sea. Betty reached out discreetly and pushed him. He lost his balance, toppling forward. He flailed for a moment, trying unsuccessfully to regain his balance, before grasping Betty’s arm and pulling them both into the water.

They hit the water with a splash, sinking down in slow motion. The silence underwater filled Betty’s ears. She felt Jughead let go of her arm, and her finger tips brush against his as the two of them kicked back up to the surface.

Betty resurfaced, blinking the salt water out of her eyes. Jughead was treading water directly in front of her, his head just above the surface. She found herself looking at him at eye level for the first time. He reached up and ran his hand through his hair, brushing it off his face. He was so close Betty could see every droplet of salt water clinging to his eye lashes. There was a newfound vulnerability in his eyes, and the intensity of his stare seemed to imprint upon her.

Betty gulped slightly, acknowledging the swarms of butterflies which had appeared in the moments since she’d resurfaced. She couldn’t formulate cohesive thoughts. She wasn't sure where this was going, but she had an unnerving feeling he was about to kiss her. She broke his gaze, glancing down at the water to his left, her breathing shallow.

And then she ducked back under the water, and swam away from him in the direction of the shore.

 

***

 

The air temperature only started to subside as the sun slunk down below the hills, casting a pink hue over the evening sky. The four of them were sat next to each other in the sand, eating their burgers in silence.

Betty’s calm, dream-like, ocean induced state had passed. She still felt a lingering sense of peace and contentment, but it was now tarnished now with the memory of Jughead, treading water in front of her, his green eyes piercing hers. She could still feel that sense of anticipation, like something had been about to happen. And that was troubling. It was troubling because she didn’t know what it meant and she wasn't quite sure where it had come from and she and didn’t know what was going to happen going forward.

Above all, she was scared that she’d done irreparable damage to their friendship. It seemed to her to be a lose lose situation – no matter what she did, it was going to be awkward. Betty saw Jughead every single day. They lived together, they ate together, they had mutual friends. She wasn’t sure what would have happened if she hadn’t swum away, but she knew for certain she wouldn’t be able to take it back.

Jughead had been unusually quiet since they’d gone to collect their burgers. Veronica and Archie seemed not to have noticed, and for that Betty was grateful. But as she sat there next to them on the beach, their toes in the sand, Betty felt a familiar tinge of anxiety. Betty didn’t want to ruin what she had with the three of them. The others came as a packaged deal. Betty was the outsider, and she was the only one at risk of losing everything if she screwed up.

Somewhere to her left, Jughead reached for his sweater and fished through the pocket looking for something. Betty watched out of the corner of her eye as he withdrew his hat. He put it back back on, adjusting it into place.

She couldn’t help but feel like it was a pointed move, and indeed wonder whether it would ever come off again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jughead may trade in intellect and wit, but I trade in comments - so thank you endlessly for your feedback. All the love x


	7. Fake or Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

Betty had not seen Jughead at all over the last week. She’d become so used to having him around that it was odd to arrive home in the evening and find him absent. The apartment felt emptier, a little hollow. Conversation with Veronica and Archie continued as it always had, but there was more silence than previously. It was a comfortable silence, but noticeable nonetheless.

Betty almost wondered if they were a little relieved, Veronica in particular, to have some space from Jughead. When it had been three days since Betty had seen him, she’d asked in an offhand manner if either of them had seen him lately. Archie had explained that Jughead was particularly busy with a case at work, and was having to work late and over the weekends to get everything done.

This may well have been true, because she had heard him complain about his volume of work in recent weeks. But Betty also had a gnawing feeling that it was not the sole reason for his extended working hours.

The two of them had still not addressed their moment at the beach. Now that a week had passed, Betty was starting to accept that this would likely never happen. She wasn’t even particularly bothered by it. What she was concerned about, however, was whether things would ever revert back to the way they were. She suspected he was was avoiding her, and if her suspicions were correct he was certainly doing a thorough job.

Thought if nothing else, their moment at the beach had given her a little more perspective. It was almost like she’d awoken from some sort extended reverie where everything was amusing and fast paced but ultimately trivial. She realised now she didn’t really know anything of substance about Jughead, but for what others had told her in passing. For that matter, he knew very little about her. Of all of his endless questions and engaging conversations, none of it really meant anything.

It was hard to ask personal questions of someone who didn’t ask any of you. They’d reached some kind of impasse, and Betty wasn’t sure who was to blame. It was confusing and frustrating, and it also hurt a little. She wasn’t sure how the two of them had even reached this point.

Betty was careful not to mention any of this during her morning coffee with Katelyn. The last thing she needed was Katelyn meddling in the situation.

“How’s Jughead?”

Betty’s heart sank.

“He’s good, I think. Quite busy at work,” she replied casually.

“Has he professed his love for you yet?”

“Katelyn, please.”

Katelyn shrugged. “I’m just trynna help a sister out here.”

“You’re not helping. I have to live with this guy - how are you helping!”

Katelyn’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but she didn’t press further. “Well, he definitely doesn’t like me,” she quipped, finishing the last of her coffee.

Betty couldn’t disagree with this. She wondered for a moment if things would be different if she was as upfront as Katelyn. Katelyn had been immune to his charm and had shut down his games before they even started. The outcome had been refreshingly clear cut, although perhaps not the result Betty personally would have wanted.

“I have a meeting soon with one of the assistant editors,” Betty said, attempting to change the subject. “I’m a bit worried she’s worked out I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Katelyn scoffed. “None of us know what we’re doing. It’s an affliction of one’s early twenties. Like they say, you’ve just got to fake it ‘til you make it.”

Several people had said this to Betty of late. While she appreciated them trying to make her feel better, it wasn’t especially helpful. She was already faking multiple aspects of her life and it was starting to get a little exhausting. She found her self frequently wondering how long would it be before she started to actually ‘make it’.

“I don’t want to make you late for your meeting,” Katelyn said, standing up. “I’m sure it will go well. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Betty grimaced.

 

***

 

It did not go well.

Consequently, Betty left the office that evening feeling particularly dispirited. She had a familiar sinking feeling on her stomach, one that seemed to have been building slowly over the last week. She’d had a fairly clear run of this lately. The early success of her move to the city and integration into adult life had been all-consuming. But this grace period seemed to have run its course, and reality was starting to set in.

Of course, in an ideal world, reality didn’t include crippling nerves and persistent waves of anxiety. It was the fixation that really got to her; the inability to let something go, instead allowing her thoughts to swirl endlessly and weave their way in and out of her dreams. Betty had more control over this these days than she’d had in the past, but the issue seemed to crop back up at inopportune moments.

She tried to leave her concern about her work behind her as she walked home, but it was still weighing heavily in the back of her mind when she arrived back at the apartment. Veronica and Archie were not home – they’d warned Betty that morning they were going to dinner with Veronica’s parents because they were in town on business. Jughead was, of course, also absent.

Betty busied herself in the kitchen with preparing her dinner. The apartment felt unusually lonely. She’d become accustomed to company. Without the usual mindless chatter, her thoughts echoed through her brain, each one demanding more attention than was necessary.

Betty ate her dinner slowly, pushing it around her plate. She gave up eventually, and put her fork down to pull out her phone. She scrolled absentmindedly through Facebook, watching the lives of others flash before her. Everyone she knew from back home seemed to be having a great time. They were starting new jobs and travelling overseas and enjoying themselves. They were meeting new friends, and then not losing them by blurring the lines between roommates and friendship and something else.

Tears pricked at Betty’s eyes, and she blinked them back. Only a week ago, everything had felt like it was coming together. And now, as quickly as this feeling had blossomed, life felt like it had become stagnant and slightly fractured.

She heard the apartment door open suddenly, and she jumped slightly. She quickly wiped under her eyes with the corner of her sleeve, and went back to her phone.

“Hey Betty.”

She looked up just as Jughead walked into the kitchen and set his bag down on the bench. “Oh, hi,” she replied casually, putting her phone down.

“Where are Veronica and Archie?” His voice was calm and even. Betty felt for a moment like she’d dreamed the last week, and it hadn’t really happened at all.

“They went to dinner with the Lodges.”

“Oh.” Jughead said, a half smile on his face. “Archie better be on his best behaviour.”

Betty couldn’t imagine Archie behaving badly at dinner with Veronica’s parents. It was implausible, and a further example of Jughead avoiding anything that remotely resembled a consequential conversation. Given the circumstances, Betty found this somewhat irritating.

She chose not to acknowledge his comment. “How was work?”

“Not fun,” he said flatly. “Too many billable hours.” He procured a frying pan from one of the cupboards, and proceeded to begin preparations for his own dinner.

She couldn’t quite believe he was doing this. It was as if the last week hadn’t even happened. It wasn’t especially awkward, but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. Obviously, they were going to continue to not communicate about any thing, ever, until the end of time.

Betty felt tears sting her eyes once more, and she tried to blink them away furiously while his back was to her.

Jughead was searching the fridge, pulling various items out and stuff them back in. “Do we have any broccoli?”

“No, sorry I used the last of it.” Betty’s voice was a little wobbly, but luckily he didn’t seem to have noticed.

“Oh. That explains a lot, I-”

Jughead stopped talking abruptly as he turned around, and Betty knew at once that her attempts to maintain her composure had been unsuccessful. She stared intently at the microwave, which was positioned off to the left of where he stood, and refused to make eye contact.

“Betty?” his voice was careful and hesitant. “Are…are you okay?”

The trouble with people asking you whether you were okay, was that you immediately felt much worse. Betty’s vision blurred. She pressed her lips together and nodded at him, hoping this was reassuring.

However it clearly wasn't. Jughead’s face was awash with concern, his features softened. Betty had seen this expression before, on the night she’d smashed the champagne glasses – yet another thing they’d not addressed. She wondered how he could care so much, and give so little

Jughead put down the bag of lettuce he was holding. He didn’t say anything, so she did.

“I think I made a mistake moving here.” Her voice was thin and wobbly.

Jughead leaned back against the fridge, watching Betty rest her forehead on her hands, elbows on the breakfast bar. “I thought that when I moved here too. So did Veronica and Archie. It’s a hard adjustment, especially straight out of school. But I’m glad I stuck it out. It get’s easier.” He paused. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a great job.”

Betty looked back up at him. He looked sincere, and there was understanding in his eyes.

“I feel like I’m about to get fired at work,” she said, thickly. This was an exaggeration, but a fairly accurate representation of how she felt.

Jughead laughed, and Betty flinched at his reaction. “Do you know how difficult it is to fire someone? It’s really difficult. But if you need an employment lawyer, by all means, sing out.”

An incredulous look spread across Betty’s face. “That’s the kind of law you do?”

“Employment is a complex and many layered area of the law, Betty,” Jughead joked. “You should respect that."

Betty smiled slightly, allowing this baffling new discovery to sink in for a moment, and then stood up. She felt Jughead’s watchful eye on her as she rinsed her plate and stacked it in the dishwasher. Just as she made to leave the kitchen, he caught her arm gently. She stopped, and then turned slightly to look at him. He paused momentarily, and then pulled her toward him in a hug, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Betty squeezed her eyes shut, her forehead pressed against his shoulder as she stood there in his arms. She could feel a sob rise in her throat, and willed herself to regain some control. And then, he let go. She stepped back, the two of them holding eye contact for a brief moment.

Betty turned away and retreated to the solace of her bedroom, wiping under her eyes as she went.

 

***

 

Veronica had wheeled a clothes rack of dresses into the main room of the apartment, and was shuffling through them rapidly. Somewhere behind Veronica and the clothing rack, Netflix was playing, but Betty hadn’t been able to see the screen for sometime now.

Archie and Jughead were seated either side of Betty on the coach, and Betty could sense they were growing tired of this. The screech of coat hangers over the metal rack was shrill, and all three of them repeatedly flinched at the sound.

“I just feel like there’s quite a specific dress code, so I don’t want to overdo it,” Veronica was saying, more to herself than anyone else.

“That would just be…so disastrous,” Jughead said dryly.

Veronica paused to look at him with contempt. “Are you going?”

“No. I went last year.”

“That’s not the point. It happens every year.”

“I am too old and jaded to attend the Young Professionals’ Ball this year.”

Veronica rolled her eyes and resumed her search. “Good. We didn’t want you to come anyway.”

Jughead pulled an obnoxious face at her behind her back. He leaned forward to see past Betty, and grinned at Archie. “I hope you have a fun time at the Young Professional’s Ball,” he said sarcastically.

Archie snorted. “Trust me, there’s no way you’re getting out of this.”

Veronica smiled hopefully at Betty. “Betty’s coming. Aren’t you Betty?”

“Betty, I hope you have a fun time at the Young Professional’s Ball too.”

Betty ignored Jughead. “Ahh…I’m not sure. I haven’t really thought about it.” She had not known of the existence of this ball until tonight, and the thought was already making her a little nervous. “I don’t really have anyone to go with,” she added.

Veronica waved this aside dismissively. “Neither does Jughead. But we can all just go together. It will be fun.”

“I don’t think I have anything to wear,” Betty stalled, reluctant to be sucked into this without further time to consider.

Archie laughed. “Nice try, Betty. Veronica’s dress collection is the reason I don’t have any closet space at all. I don’t think that will be a problem.”

Betty had run out of excuses. “Ok, well...I guess so.”

“She sounds so excited!”

Veronica pointed a coat hanger at Jughead. “Shut up.”

He recoiled a little, raising his hands in the air. “Okay! Okay! We can all go. God.”

Clearly, there was little room for negotiation on this one. Betty suspected Jughead had known he was fighting a losing battle from the outset. None of them pretended Veronica didn’t make all the decisions.

Betty supposed there was a chance it could be fun if the four of them went along together, but she didn’t want Jughead to feel like he had to go for her sake. Since he had hugged her in the kitchen, things seemed to have fallen back into place. She still wasn’t sure what to make of his actions, but had decided for now not to question things. She valued their collective friendship, and his in particular. She wasn’t prepared to further jeopardise that. If it meant proceeding without any meaningful communication, so be it.

Later that evening after Veronica and Archie had gone to bed, she watched him rifle through the pantry in search of post dinner snack.

“You don’t have to go the ball if you don’t want to.”

“I know,” he said simply.

He knew.

And he was still going.

Maybe she was just clutching at straws, but even though he didn't apologise for the tangled situation they'd found themselves in, it felt like he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hard chapter for me to write, but I'm glad it eventually made it onto the page. Thank you all for your words of encouragement- it truly makes a big difference and helps keep these characters flowing.


	8. The Young Professionals' Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

It had been a long time since Betty had attended a ball. Casting her mind back, her last appearance was probably while she was still at school. It was fun, she supposed, getting dressed up and going out with your friends. Her absence from such events in recent years had been due to lack of courage rather than lack of enjoyment. It made her a little sad to think about. But if ever there was a time to rectify this, it seemed to be now.

If there was one thing she was now sure of, it was that Veronica loved attending events of this nature, and did so whenever the opportunity rose. Her extensive wardrobe was testament to this.

“I think I like the pink better. Turn around?”

Betty obeyed, twirling slowly in a floaty periwinkle blue dress Veronica had coaxed her into.

“Definitely the pink,” Veronica decided. “Take that one back off.”

Betty obliged, carefully returning the blue dress back to its hanger and retrieving the pink one. “Veronica, thank you so much. It’s beautiful, I promise I’ll take good care of it.”

Veronica waved her hand, casting aside Betty’s tentativeness. “Honestly, you are more than welcome. This has been fun.”

Veronica and Archie’s room was looking more than a little dishevelled. Dresses were scattered over the floor, accompanied by multiple pairs of shoes and several bags. Betty had never seen anything like it. She had long suspected Veronica’s closet of being something of a wonderland, and had been fascinated to find out just how right she was.

Casting her eye around the room, Betty got the impression that space was almost entirely dictated by Veronica. It was funny to think about her and Archie’s dynamic. Betty had learned early on that the two of them had been together right since the beginning of college, and it showed. There was something incredibly comforting and reassuring about their pairing. Betty knew part of this was that they actively looked out for her. But also, Veronica’s extravagance seemed to be offset by Archie’s absurdly easy-going nature. They just fit. Betty’s wasn’t sure what it felt like to have someone at your side at all times, but they made it seem easy.

Betty recognised most of the belongings as being Veronica’s, but for perhaps the collection of guitars in the far corner of the room. She suspected the framed photographs that lined the walls had been curated by Veronica also. Archie and Jughead featured in many of these, and Betty noticed one in particular with the three of them dressed up at a formal event. It was an endearing photo. None of them were looking at the camera and they were all laughing, their arms around each other. Even Jughead looked like he was enjoying himself.

“I thought Jughead was ‘morally opposed to formal events’,” Betty said, pointing at the photo and quoting his words in the air.

Veronica scoffed. “He is. But he’ll do anything for the people he cares about.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t let him fool you, Betty.”

Betty had heard that one before. Unfortunately, she’d also already been fooled. Several times.

“He does, though. Every time," she admitted. "Why doesn’t he take anything seriously?”

Veronica sighed, gathering shoes in her arms. “It’s a defence mechanism. I’ve always thought he would grow out of it. Increasingly, I’m not so sure.”

Betty glanced back at the photo. You couldn’t change people.

Veronica followed her gaze. “This year we’ll get one with all four of us.”

Betty smiled at her and nodded.

 

***

 

“Jughead, please. Just for one photo.”

“I don’t think so, Veronica.”

“Please? I’m begging you to take off the hat.”

“No.” Jughead’s voice was clam and even.

“Do it for the ‘Gram,” Archie quipped, earning him a light punch from Veronica.

“My hat actually has its own Instagram account.”

Somewhere to Betty’s left, she heard Archie snicker.

Veronica closed her eyes in frustration, and then reopened them. “Ok. I give up. Everyone, you’re dismissed. It’s time to go.”

Betty stepped out of view of Veronica’s selfie, adjusting her dress slightly as she did.

Veronica beamed at her. “Betty’s my date. She’s the prettiest.”

Betty felt herself blush, and pulled a face at Veronica. Veronica took her hand, leading her out of the apartment to the elevator, the boys following after.

As it was only a short distance to the event, they walked. It was a mild evening, and Betty couldn’t help but admire how pretty the harbour looked, the city lights reflecting off the water. Veronica was still holding her hand, swinging their arms in an absentminded lilt as they approached the venue.

Betty was a little nervous about the volume of people inside. There had been an impressive turnout; Veronica had told her earlier in the week that the event had completely sold out. And although there was plenty of room inside, groups of people had congregated just inside the entrance. She held tightly to Veronica’s hand as they navigated the crowd, having already lost sight of Archie and Jughead.

“Betty!”

Betty paused, surprised, and looked around. Katelyn was waving at her across the room, making her way towards them. When she reached them, she threw her arms dramatically around Betty and Veronica. Betty could tell she was drunk.

“Hiii!”

Betty giggled, giving her a one armed hug. “Hey Katelyn. This is Veronica.”

“I know!” Katelyn exclaimed loudly. “We’re Facebook friends!”

Veronica nodded in agreement, laughing, and Betty remembered the invite they’d sent Katelyn for the housewarming party.

“Betty you look so pretty!” Katelyn gushed.

“Thanks,” Betty said shyly. “So do you.”

Katelyn did look pretty. Even drunk, she radiated poise and confidence. Betty was struck by how much easier these events must be if you could carry this demeanour with you wherever you went.

“Did Jughead tell Betty she looked pretty?” Katelyn questioned Veronica, her arm still around Betty’s shoulders as she leaned on her slighlty.

Betty blushed, and stared hard at Katelyn, imploring her to stop.

Veronica shook her head, rolling her eyes. “No. He just thought it.”

“He did not -”

“He did,” Veronica said, interrupting Betty. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. It was very interesting.”

This was not interesting and it did not seem to be the time or place for this conversation.

Katelyn made a tutting noise, and leaned her head on Betty’s shoulder. “We’ll sort him out.”

 

***

 

Betty was surprised how much she was enjoying herself. She’d felt much more at ease after bumping into Katelyn, and had genuinely enjoyed her evening spent mingling. Small talk was far from Betty’s strong suit, something she was always painfully aware of. But it was much easier with Veronica and Katelyn by her side. She’d even taken to the dance floor for a bit.

Betty and Veronica were having such a good time that they didn’t really see Archie and Jughead until rather later on in the evening. They found them seated at the bar, having been in conversation with several friends Betty recognised from the housewarming party.

Veronica ran up behind Archie and wrapped her arms around him. Both he and Jughead turned around.

“Ahh,” Jughead announced, folding his arms. “The notorious B and V. We thought you’d forgotten about us.”

“We did.” Veronica said bluntly, poking her tongue out at him.

“We’ve been with Katelyn,” Betty explained.

Jughead looked appalled. “That is… so nice,” he said, sounding as if it was not nice at all.

Betty laughed. She knew Jughead hadn't forgotten Katelyn's brief visit to Precinct, and she still enjoyed that it had unnerved him so much. It was rather telling.

Veronica and Archie appeared to be discussing something very intently when Archie suddenly stood up. “We’re going to get something to eat,” he announced.

Jughead looked bewildered by this. “What? You literally _just_ ate.”

Veronica rolled her eyes, and tugged at Archie’s arm, dragging him away from them without further explanation.

Jughead looked at Betty and shrugged. “Archie’s whipped.” He patted the bar stool beside him that Archie had just vacated. Betty hopped up onto the stool.

“Betty Cooper, would you like a drink?”

“Yes please. But just a sparkling water, thanks.”

Jughead beckoned the bartender over, leaning forward so his request could be heard. Betty watched their conversation. It was too loud to hear what they were saying, but she saw the bartender’s weary expression morph into one of amusement and then he laughed. She recognised the pleased look on Jughead’s face; the one he wore when he succeeded in making someone laugh.

The challenge was always there.

Jughead pushed a sparkling water across to Betty, and she was surprised to note he had one too. Betty was not much of a drinker herself, and there were reasons for that. But she was used to having to justify herself. People were typically reluctant to accept it.

“I don’t drink," he said, acknowledging her gaze. 

It was as if he had read her mind. She nodded. “Neither do I, really.”

“My father’s an alcoholic.”

Betty almost fell off her stool, unsure where this was suddenly coming from. She allowed his unexpectedly honest revelation to sink in, still nodding, but more slowly now. And then she realised he was waiting for her.

 _I have a medicated anxiety disorder and I don’t like the feeling of losing control_.

She couldn’t do it.

“I’ve just never been very interested in it,” she lied.

Jughead stirred the ice in his drink thoughtfully.

“Hey.”

Betty looked around. A tall guy she didn’t know was standing next to her, leaning on the bar.

“Hi,” she said politely, a little hesitant.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked.

“No thanks.”

“Aw, come on,” he insisted, grinning at her.

“Thank you, but I’m okay.”

Her heart was beating a little faster and there was a very slight tremble in her voice. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as her stood there expectantly.

She felt Jughead stand up next to her. “Hey, come on man, she said no.” His voice was flat and final.

The guy looked at Jughead and shrugged. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Whatever.”

As he sauntered off, Betty looked up at Jughead, who was staring after the guy in distaste. Eventually he turned back to her.

“Thanks,” she said softly. He couldn’t hear her, but he knew. He nodded.

It was so silly. There was nothing to be especially concerned about by being hit on by strangers, but surprise confrontations always seemed to get to her. She wanted so badly to put it behind her, to not let it to ruin her otherwise enjoyable evening. But she was on edge, now, and over aware of her surroundings and it was hard.

She thought Jughead might have noticed this discomfort, because he kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. He leaned over to her.

“Have you had enough?”

“Sorry?”

“We don’t have to stay. I can walk you home if you want,” Jughead offered.

“But what about Veronica and Archie?”

“They’ll be fine,” he said reassuringly. “I’ll text them.”

Betty pressed her lips together. The offer was tempting.  She nodded slightly. “Thanks.”

The temperature had dropped in the last few hours, and Betty shivered involuntarily as they stepped outside. Jughead paused and took off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders as they set off back to the apartment. Betty felt a familiar swooping sensation in her stomach, but tried to disregard this as she smiled at him gratefully

The silence between them was oddly comfortable. Somewhat against her better judgement, Betty took a chance.

“What about your mom?”

Jughead looked over at her, surprised, pausing for a moment. “She left when I was young.”

Betty winced, the comfortable silence no longer comfortable.

Jughead stopped suddenly. And when Betty realised, she did too, turning back to look at him. He raised both hands and folded them over his head, tension clearly visible.

“Betty, I’m sorry.” He faltered. “I’m…trying.”

Betty chewed her lip and looked at him through glassy eyes. “I know,” she whispered. She reached out and took his hand in hers, delicately interlinking their fingers.

Jughead seemed a little dumbfounded, but didn’t recoil, falling into step along side her. Betty was acutely aware of how close he was as they walked the remaining distance home, his arm brushing lightly against hers.

He didn’t let go.

It wasn’t until they were in the elevator that he dropped her hand and began searching for his keys. He emptied his own pockets and then inspected the pockets of his jacket, which was still draped around Betty’s shoulders. She watched him do this, amused.

“Fuck.”

The elevator doors opened, but neither of them stepped out.

“Are you sure you brought them with you?”

“No.”

The elevator doors closed again, both of them still inside. Jughead reached up and took his hat off. He ran his hand through his hair, looking vexed. The effect was oddly endearing.

Betty smiled innocently. “Well, lucky I have mine.”

Jughead stared at her blankly.

Betty reached into her dress and pulled her key from her dress, holding it up in front of him in her fingers.

Jughead seemed to take a moment to process this development. “Thank you, Betty, for waiting as long as possible to announce that,” he said. His voice was dry, but there was a subtle smile on his lips. “I appreciate it.” Jughead reached for the key.

Betty snatched it away from him, giggling, tucking it into her fist and hiding it behind her back.

Jughead lifted his hands in mock outrage, his smile now barely concealed. “What is your problem,” he chuckled. “Betty, give me the key!”

He reached behind her, seizing the hand, and attempted to pry her fingers open. Betty resisted, giggling uncontrollably now, but he was stronger than her. She gave in and presented him with the key lying flat in her outstretched palm.

Jughead’s expression dropped. He was frozen, an aghast look on his face, the key no longer of any importance to him. Betty glanced down. Even in the dim lighting of the elevator, the tiny white scars that littered her palm were still visible. They had faded so much that Betty barely noticed them anymore. But to fresh eyes, she knew they were still obvious. She turned her hand over quickly.

Jughead reached out and took the key gently, his eyes still trained on her hand.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “They’re old.”

He looked up at her, concern etched over his face. For the second time that night, he was lost for words.

“It’s not a problem for me anymore."

And she believed it.

Lots of things were still a struggle for her, but this was not one of them. It was just something she carried with her, a reminder of how far she’d already come.

Jughead seemed to believe her too, because he nodded slightly.

“Everyone has secrets, Jughead.” Her voice was barely audible.

He knew that. But she wanted him to hear it.

He exhaled heavily, and then pressed the elevator button and the doors reopened. He moved aside, allowing her to step out first, and then followed her, his hand guiding her back gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kind comments mean the world to me, so thank you <3


	9. The Cycle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

“That was the most disappointing viewing experience I’ve had in a long time. On _so_ many levels.”

Jughead threw himself back against the couch dramatically. “Archie just lost all rights to Netflix selection until the end of our lease. My god.”

Archie, sprawled across a bean bag on the floor, shot him a complacent look. “There is no lease, dude.”

The credits were rolling; the dim beam of the television casting a soft glow over the apartment. Betty was feeling calm and sleepy, a sure sign that she too was not overly enamoured with _The Martian_. Next to her, Veronica was scrolling intently on her phone. She too had clearly lost interest in the movie some time ago, but lacked interest in Jughead’s vendetta against it.

“There was no Martian,” he went on. “The whole time I was waiting for a cute little Martian to show up, and it didn’t happen. What the fuck.”

Betty smiled lazily at him across the room. “Did you read the synopsis, Jughead?”

“No, Betty, I did not read the synopsis. I was looking forward to the element of surprise. I put my faith in Archie and now I’m full of regret.”

Veronica, growing irritated, shot him a death glare. “Ssshhh.”

But Jughead hadn’t finished. “It did make me think about space travel in much more detail, though. It’s definitely an all-consuming pursuit.”

Betty watched Veronica’s glare morph into a look of exasperation. She dropped her phone on her chest and folded her arms over her face. “Make it stop,” she begged, her voice muffled by her arms.

The day after the Young Professional’s ball had been very quiet. Betty had ticked off her usual Sunday activities, with a yoga session and a trip to the Sunday market, and had spent the afternoon preparing food for the week ahead. Even Jughead’s day had been fairly calm and collected. That was, until the four of them had settled in for a lazy Sunday evening movie after dinner.

Jughead looked at Archie very seriously. “I think we should go and check it out. Space. Could be a good group activity. Betty, are you keen?”

“Ahh..." Betty opted against pointing out the obvious glitch in this plan. "Is Veronica coming?”

“Veronica’s not invited. She’d buy too much stuff and we’d go over our luggage allowance trying to make it back to Earth. Does that sound like something you want, Betty?”

“Yes,” Betty said loyally.

Jughead shook his head, looking defeated. “Oh god.” He stood up and stretched, yawning sleepily. “We better see a bloody Martian when we get there,” he muttered, traipsing down the hall.

Veronica, Archie and Betty were left in the dark in silence, the television screen now black. Veronica sighed heavily. “Ughh. I cannot deal with him. He is so annoying.” She picked her phone back up and resumed her scrolling.

Betty could see Veronica’s point. It wasn’t so much that he was annoying as it was that he did so intentionally. But Betty knew that even though Veronica expressed daily frustration at this, she did find his behaviour rather endearing on some level. For that matter, Betty herself found it endearing. It was almost impossible not to.

She’d been particularly aware of it today. She was aware of his presence the moment he came into the room, and felt his absence whenever he left. She caught herself watching him complete mundane everyday tasks like drying the dishes, and typing emails. They hadn’t spoken at all of their walk home from the Young Professional’s Ball last night. Given their history, this was hardly surprising. But there seemed now to be a shared sense of understanding between the two of them.

Much to Betty’s relief, all of this seemed to have gone unnoticed by Veronica and Archie. She supposed there was a chance they had noticed and had elected not to comment, but she didn’t like to think about that.

Everything was still unduly complicated, and Betty wasn’t really sure where they were headed. But if nothing else, she’d lost the feeling of being swept away only to realise it meant nothing.

And that was everything.

 

***

 

Betty awoke the following morning with the heavy realisation she did not want to go to work. This was a first for her, and there was no particular reason for it. There were no looming crises waiting for her at her disk, she did not feel ill, and she wasn’t even especially tired. It was simply a feeling of resentment at the cyclical nature of adult life and the associated repetition. After 23 years of actively implementing routines in her life for some sense of grounding, this newly established compulsory one suddenly seemed like it might just be the end of her.

She dragged herself out of bed, pulling on an oversized hooded sweater, and padded out to the kitchen to get herself some breakfast. As had become customary of her mornings before work, she prepared breakfast alone. Veronica and Archie kept rather more leisurely hours, such that Betty rarely saw them in the mornings. Jughead generally tended to make an appearance as she was about to leave, perhaps a little before hand if she lingered. Today, he came into the kitchen just as she was finishing her porridge at the breakfast bar.

“Good morning,” she said darkly.

Jughead stared at her, bemused. “Wow. What did I do?”

Betty rested her chin on her hand, trying to arrange her face into a more optimistic expression, and failing.

Jughead moved on to assemble various breakfast ingredients. “How are you already having a bad day,” he pondered, “when the day hasn’t even started.”

“I don’t want to go to work.” Betty realised this sounded childish out loud, but it couldn’t have been more true.

Jughead poured cereal and milk into a bowl. “Betty Cooper,” he said, pausing to eat a spoonful of his breakfast and then pointing his spoon at her. “You are officially a young professional. Work sucks. Welcome to our world.”

She watched listlessly as he continued eating his breakfast.

“Don’t go,” Jughead said eventually, breaking their silence.

“What?”

“Don’t go,” he repeated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I have to go.”

Jughead snorted. “No you don’t. No offence, but I don’t think the company’s going to collapse if you’re sick for _one day_.”

“I’m not sick.”

“You’re sick of work. It’s the same thing,” he shrugged. “It’s a rite of passage as a recent graduate with all of the unrealistic expectations and none of the life context.”

Betty frowned, unsure if she should be offended by this. Either way, she did not feel like this conversation was helping. Jughead finished his cereal and rinsed his bowl in the sink. He then proceeded to dry it unnecessarily thoroughly. He put the bowl away and returned to the breakfast bar, leaning on it with both hands and staring across at her.

“You can’t do it, can you?”

Betty frowned at him. “Ahh, actually, yes, I could. But that doesn’t mean I should.”

“I don’t believe you,” he chimed, a knowing expression on his face. "You're too scared of being sent to the principal's office of life."

Betty scowled at him. She stood up and pulled the hood of her sweater over her head. “Watch me,” she said bitterly, stalking back to her room.

He really was infuriating. She climbed back into bed and burrowed beneath the covers, genuinely contemplating the possibility of calling in sick. Surely there was no harm in doing so just once? It was either that or endure several days of provoking remarks about her inability to break the rules. And this was to be avoided at all costs, because it was undeniably true.

Betty gave in and typed a brief email to her boss from her phone, and then rolled over grumpily.

When she woke again sometime later, it was around midday. For a moment, she forgot why it was that she was still in bed at such a ridiculous hour. And then, the memory of her momentary lapse of judgement set in. She briefly tried to feel guilty about this, but with the prospect of an entire afternoon at her disposal it proved difficult.

Betty didn’t really believe in naps. Generally speaking, she found she felt worse after taking a nap than she did if she pressed on and achieved what she needed to do. But today she’d woken up warm and comfortable and relaxed, and she had to admit that going back to bed hadn’t been a bad idea at all in this instance. She rolled out of bed for the second time that morning and pulled her sweater back on. When she pulled back the blinds, sunlight streamed into her room. She picked up various items of clothing she’d left scattered over the floor, made her bed and re-organised her laundry. Feeling significantly better about life, she opened her door and skipped down the hall, humming cheerfully to herself.

She made a beeline right for the fridge, the prospect of a leisurely lunch suddenly very enticing. She’d just grabbed the eggs and was about to shut the fridge door when --

“Hey.”

Betty jumped, startled, and dropped the carton of eggs. One dozen eggs smashed unceremoniously over the kitchen tiles. She turned around to see Jughead sprawled lazily across the couch, a book in hand. Betty stared at him in shock.

“Did you break something?” He sat up, looking moderately concerned.

Betty stared down at the mess of egg yolks and shell in front of her.

“Yeah…” she said slowly. Regaining her composure, she looked back up at him. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone accusatory.

“I didn’t want to go to work.”

Betty blinked at him, processing this. “Oh.”

“Surely you of all people should understand that,” he smirked. “Did you have a good nap? Are you ready to face the day like a mature twenty something?”

“I did,” Betty said stiffly. “And yes, thank you for asking.” She bent down to make a start on cleaning up the unfortunate mess before her.

Moments later, she felt a hand on her shoulder. “I can do that.” Jughead moved into view. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. There are more eggs in the fridge.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Betty stood up, flustered, and stepped over the mess. “It’s okay. I drop stuff all the time. In case you guys hadn’t already noticed that...” She smiled weakly. “Would you like some eggs too?”

“Yep. I sure would.”

Betty set to work preparing scrambled eggs with what was left in the fridge. They weren’t bad, she thought to herself, as they devoured them a short while later. As far as Betty could tell, Jughead was not an especially enthusiastic cook. She got the impression he could cook if it was really necessary, but that he considered it an ineffective use of his time on a daily basis. She'd noticed he tended to eat a lot of Veronica and Archie's food. Veronica had told her derisively that he was ‘good at heating things up’. She made a mental note he seemed to enjoy her scrambled eggs.

She placed her knife and fork down, lining them up neatly on her empty plate. “Did you actually just not want to go to work?” She was genuinely curious. Jughead never expressed any particular sentiment about work, other than that he had too much of it.

Jughead paused to finish his mouthful. “Pretty much. Also, you didn’t exactly set a great example.”

Betty was somewhat outraged by this. “Me?” she said in disbelief. “I hardly think I’m responsible for our collective…lethargy.”

Jughead shrugged. “You feel better for a nap. Admit it.”

“I already did admit that,” she said defensively. “Not that I think the way of feeling better about adulthood in general comes from from avoiding it. You have to invest in it.”

Jughood nodded thoughtfully, pushing his plate away. “What’s the best way to invest?”

“What?”

“In adulthood.”

“Oh. I’m not sure.” Betty waved this aside. “I’m still figuring it out.”

Jughead looked at her, eyebrows raised. “That’s a cop out, Cooper. You just served some real wisdom. You gotta back it up.”

Betty already regretted this statement. She wasn’t sure what to say. But he was looking at her expectantly, waiting. She sighed.

“I guess you have to make choices,” she said slowly. “Thinking about things too much is debilitating. And it’s unproductive. You have to make decisions, and then you have to actually take action. Even if it seems like it will completely change the course of you whole life.” She paused. “Maybe _especially_ if you think it will change the course of your life.”

Jughead didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he stood up abruptly and took her plate. “Right. Well. Thanks for making us all feel inadequate.”

“No one else is here.”

"Maybe that's the problem. You don't lecture Veronica and Archie about life." Jughead grinned as he carried their plates around to the dishwasher.

Betty was indignant. “Well, what do you think we should be doing with our lives, then?!”

“Look, I didn’t say you were wrong. But I think what you’re suggesting is difficult to execute. I don’t-”

“It’s not that difficult,” Betty interjected. “People pretend making choices is the hard part. But that’s not true. What’s much more terrifying is making a choice and wanting something but not knowing how to actually get it. It opens you to the possibility of failure.”

Jughead was rearranging the dishwasher. “I am…deeply averse to failure.”

“I can tell.”

Jughead looked up at her, disarmed. “Okay,” he said, closing the dishwasher. “I think you should go back to work.”

Betty laughed, shaking her head. “You know,” she went on. “For the record, I’m terrified of failure also.”

Jughead’s eyes met hers. Unusually, there was no trace of humour in them. 

“You of all people really needn’t be.”

 

***

 

A short time later, Betty found herself eating ice cream and walking along the waterfront with Jughead.

There had been much discussion about this. Betty was concerned about being seen by someone from work if she left the house. Jughead was concerned that mitigating this risk would result in them wasting the afternoon, something he said would be unacceptable given the sacrifices being made of his client's employment dispute. In the end they had not reached a compromise, and Betty had given in. Sometimes it just wasn’t worth the argument.

They didn’t say much. Betty suspected Jughead of still being wrapped up in their earlier conversation, and she had to admit she was a little too. On the surface it had been very much centred in the struggle of adulthood, but in retrospect Betty felt it was probably very applicable to what she could also describe as _their situation._

Slowly but surely, Jughead was opening up. And Betty now knew it was a conscious decision.

_I’m trying._

Betty wasn’t sure how long it would take, but she was prepared to wait for things to unfold. She was, after all, hardly guilt-free herself. As she’d said earlier, it was easier not to know, and not to choose, and not to do.

“Betty, look at that dog.”

Betty followed where Jughead was pointing. It was surely a nice dog, but she struggled to see what so distinctive about it.

“Doesn’t he just look so happy?”

This seemed like somewhat of a generalisation. She felt most dogs tended to look pretty happy. “Do you think he looks happier than us?” she asked, genuinely wanting to know his thoughts on this.

“Probably.”

Betty shrugged. “Being happy is easy. The problem is wanting to be happier than others, which is impossible because everyone always thinks others are happier than they really are.”

Jughead drew to a halt suddenly and reached out to stop her too, placing both hands on her shoulders. “Betty!” He voice portrayed mock seriousness but she could see the laughter in his eyes. “Stop with the philosophical thoughts. This is supposed to be my day off.”

She raised her eyebrows, smiling slightly, looking unwaveringly at him. She saw something in his eyes she’d never seen before. Normally closed off and reserved, they were soft and unguarded. There was a pause, and she saw his eyes flicker down briefly. She stopped mid-breath. Suddenly she was acutely aware of how little distance was between them. It felt like just the two of them stood there, despite the crowds of people moving unknowingly past them

“Elizabeth!”

Betty jumped at the sound of her full name. Bewildered, Jughead withdrew his hands hastily from Betty’s shoulders. Betty wasn’t even sure if he had known her full name was Elizabeth, but he definitely did now.

Her heart, fluttering inconsistently only moments before, was now beating rapidly. _She’d been spotted_. It was inconceivable, but also entirely conveivable. She turned around nervously, searching the crowd for her fate, and praying it wasn’t someone from work.

A girl she didn’t recognise walked straight past Betty and Jughead and sat down next to her friend on a park bench.

Betty allowed this to sink in, and let out the breath she’d been holding. It had been another Elizabeth...

She turned back to Jughead and exhaled heavily. She smiled at him in disbelief, unable to feel anything other than hugely relieved. “Oh my god. I thought that was someone from work! I truly thought I was about to reach the end of my journalism career.”

“Not everything is about you,” he said smugly.

Betty delivered a playful smack to his arm. “I’m serious! And all I could think about was how it was going to be all your fault.”

He rolled his eyes in amusement. “You worry too much.”

“Surely not,” Betty said sarcastically.

Jughead was standing there in front of her, wearing that irritatingly handsome smirk she'd seen a lot of in the last few days. She was overcome with a wave of confidence, the kind that came with realising your fears were a little irrational. She was tired of thinking about all the things that could go wrong, and the many ways in which they could mess this up. Because somewhere between that moment at the beach and now, things had changed. And it wasn’t the time he lent her his jacket, or the moment she took his hand in hers on the way home from the ball. It was the way he'd started listening to her, and asking questions, and also answering them. Beyond his carefully constructed exterior of intellect and wit, he was hiding real emotions and real feelings. She knew it. Betty wasn’t sure how long it would take for the two of them to let down their guards completely, but there seemed to only be only one way to find out.

Betty stepped forward, her heart in her mouth. She hadn’t done this in a while, but she was going to have to be brave for just a moment, even though the whole city was there watching. She stood up on tiptoes, and pressed her lips softly against his, her eyes falling shut as she did so.

Betty heard his sharp intake of breath as she pulled away slowly, and then felt his hands catch her waist and he pulledher gently back towards him.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him to find his eyes trained intently on her lips. And then the tip of his nose brushed hers, and she knew what was coming. A swarm of butterflies fluttered through her stomach as his lips meet hers again. They were hesitant at first, and then a little more sure. Betty was so surprised it took her a moment to start kissing him back. And when they eventually broke apart, Jughead opened his eyes and smiled shyly down at her and Betty thought her heart was going to burst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thank you for you patience! This chapter's a little longer, but I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> I started writing this on a whim with absolutely no expectation that anyone would read it, and I've realised within the last couple of days that I have a bit of work to do! 
> 
> Please know I appreciate every single one of you and all of your positive comments - they make all the difference. Love x


	10. The New Piece of Furniture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

If two months ago someone had told Betty that her move to the city would see her skip work to nap during the day and kiss her roommate in the middle of a busy public walkway, she wouldn’t have believed them. It was funny how things changed.

In fact, it was also funny how her whole perspective on life seemed to have changed. In the several days that had passed since that afternoon, Betty had thought of almost nothing else. She carried it around with her everywhere she went. Kissing Jughead had not outwardly changed their relationship as such, but it had certainly had a profound effect on her. He had kissed her back. And that was definitive proof of what she now realised she’d been hoping for a while. Jughead _liked her_. Now that she knew this vital piece of information, everything had suddenly become glaringly obvious. She wasn’t sure how she’d managed to miss it before.

Betty found herself noticing things she’d clearly been blind to for sometime. Things that explained Veronica and Katelyn's insistence that he'd possibly kind of maybe liked her all along. There was something about the way he watched out for her, and the little things he did for her, and the way he made her laugh. They held new meaning for her now. As much as she tried to think about other more pressing things, she found herself overcome with giddy with happiness at unexpected moments throughout the day, swarms of butterflies tickling her insides insides.

And actually, all she really wanted was another opportunity to kiss him. She didn’t think that was too much to ask. She found herself dreaming up scenarios in which neither of them had any responsibilities or commitments or duties, and they had all the time in the world, and Veronica and Archie were conveniently absent, and --

“Betty!”

Betty was jolted abruptly out of her reverie. Unfortunately, this summery Saturday morning, was that was not going to present that opportunity. Veronica was stood next to her in the kitchen, staring at her expectedly.

“Huh?”

Veronica looked mildy amused. “I was just saying,” she repeatedly slowly, “do you want to help me?”

Betty hastily rearranged her face into what she hoped was a slightly less vacant expression. “Oh!" She exclaimed, slightly flustered – a not uncommon occurrence these days. “Yes. Of course.”

“Great!” Veronica beamed at her, before skipping back down the hall.

Betty glanced warily at Archie, who was seated across from her at the breakfast bar. “What am I helping with?”

Archie shook his head at her, grinning. “Arranging Veronica’s new furniture. It’s being delivered soon.”

“Oh. That’s right. Great.” Betty paused, vaguely remembering a recent conversation to this effect, and wondering if it was too late to get out of it. She now remembered she’d learned earlier in the week that Veronica was expecting delivery of a new piece of furniture. This not not an especially interesting revelation. Veronica bought things everyday and Betty was becoming increasingly aware that furniture was just one of those things that seemed to be part of growing up. That said, it was somewhat intriguing in that fact that Betty hadn’t been able to ascertain what the delivery actually was. Jughead had been sarcastically referring to it all week as ‘The New Piece of Furniture’ and Betty didn’t want to further aggravate the situation by asking Veronica.

She looked sceptically at Archie. “Do you know what is?”

Archie shrugged. “I… don’t like to ask.”

Clearly, Betty was not alone in her view of this.

Jughead sauntered into the kitchen, and Betty froze momentarily, immediately grappling with the conflicting array of feelings that seemed to overcome her every time the two of them were in a room with Archie and Veronica. Which was, as one might expect, fairly regularly. It was a combination of nerves and anticipation and excitement, but also the slightly guilty fear of being found out. Betty knew she hadn't done anything wrong, but it didn't make it any of these feelings any easier to escape.

Jughead nonchalantly bounced the ever controversial basketball once on the kitchen tiles to announce his arrival. “Hi friends.”

Archie grinned at him. “No hoops in the kitchen, bro.”

“Is she still mad?”

“That you hid her keys in the fruit bowl? Amongst other things, yup.”

Jughead looked at Betty, a slightly sheepish expression on his face. “Oops.” He tossed the basketball casually across the kitchen at Archie, who caught it, and hugged it to his middle in a display of finality. Jughead looked hopeful. "Do you think if I help her assemble The New Piece of Furniture she’ll forgive me?”

Betty pressed her lips together, equal parts disapproving and amused.

Archie shrugged. “You can try.”

Betty was not sure this peace offering was going to suffice. Nonetheless, she watched with mild interest when the intercom rang half an hour later, and an oversized brown package was subsequently carried into the living room. Veronica assembled Archie and Jughead who, under precise instruction, assembled the package’s contents. Betty marvelled at how this mundane task could take up the entirety of one’s morning, and found herself wondering yet again if purchasing and assembling furniture was really a fundamental aspect of growing up.

As it transpired, it was an L shaped couch. And it would play a crucial role in he living room. Or so Veronica said. Betty was inclined to agree with Jughead’s view that it was actually just an ‘unnecessarily pretentious couch’, of which they already had two. But she wasn’t about to voice that opinion out loud.

This distinction, however, was the least of their problems. More problematic was that fact that, according to Veronica, it was the _wrong_ L shaped couch. And most problematic of all was that it was presently stuck in the entrance to their apartment.

“We don’t really want people coming in here anyway,” Jughead said casually, he, Archie and Betty staring at the apartment entrance. Or rather, what was still visible of it, for most of the doorway was obscured from view. Down the hall, Betty could hear Veronica having a heated argument over the phone. Betty had very much been a strong advocate of disassembling the couch before they tried to take it back down to the ground floor. But then, as Jughead had pointed out, it was not her that had just spent the last hour putting it together.

“What if you turn it around?” Betty suggested, hopeful that this may at least allow access to the apartment.

There was a long silence while Archie and Jughead contemplated this.

“Bother,” Archie said eventually. “I think she’s right.”

Betty shot him an unimpressed look at his reluctance to acknowledge her input, stepping back as Archie and Jughead attempted to manoeuvre the ungainly piece of furniture back into the hall.

Their second attempt was much more successful, something Betty observed with a degree of smugness. Not only had they managed to actually exit the apartment, they’d also made it around the corner to the elevator entrance. Much to Archie’s annoyance, Jughead hadn’t been able to stop himself yelling "Pivot! Pivot!” as they’d done so. But nonetheless they had made it.

Betty stepped into the open elevator, placing her hand out to hold the door while the others followed her in.

It was at this moment it occurred to Betty that the Precinct elevator wasn’t really designed for three people and a piece furniture of this size and shape. Somewhere on the other side of the couch, was Archie struggling with the door, cursing quietly. Betty was wedged between the the wall of the elevator and Jughead, his arm pressed up against hers. The hairs on his arm were faintly ticklish, and Betty could feel a nervous energy building inside of her; so strong she almost wondered if Jughead could feel it himself. She felt his arm twitch slightly, and then he reached for her hand, weaving their fingers together and squeezing gently.

She squeezed back.

Betty heard the doors close, the downward motion of the elevator only serving to emphasis the already swooping sensation in her stomach. She, sighed, resigned to the fact that this task was clearly going to take up the remainder of her morning.

 

***

 

Spending her entire afternoon in Ikea with Veronica was yet another thing that had not been part of Betty’s plan. But somehow, all four of them had embarked on this mission to obtain Veronica’s rightful couch together.

A shopping trip orchestrated by Veronica was never going to be destined for efficiency. Unhelpfully, she and Archie had disappeared some time ago to investigate lamp shades, a pursuit Betty very much suspected Archie did not care for. She also very much suspected Jughead of having run away about this time. And so, Betty had been left to browse alone. When she had exhausted examining all the possible wardrobe organisers she didn’t need, she moved on to inspect beds. She’d been lucky, she thought to herself, that her room had come fully furnished, because it turned out beds were extortionate. She flopped down onto one under the guise of testing it out, but with no real intention of getting up any time soon.

Betty pulled out her phone. She scrolled mindlessly through her Instagram account for a moment, before remembering she’d been going to text Archie and query he and Veronica's whereabouts.

The mattress lurched unexpectedly, and Betty sat up quickly in surprise to find that Jughead had collapsed unceremoniously on the bed next to her, and was staring up at the ceiling.

“Oh!” she said, her surprise subsiding slightly. “It’s you.”

Betty lay back down, staring up at the ceiling as well.

“Veronica’s buying the whole of Ikea,” Jughead said, his voice sounding pained.

Betty giggled. “I know.”

Jughead sighed loudly, and a comfortable silence ensued. 

Sometime later, he cleared his throat. “This bed is comfortable as fuck. She should just buy this instead,” he observed. 

Betty turned her head slightly to see that his eyes were closed. His mouth was slightly open, with his lips parted, chest rising and falling gently. His hat had slipped off ever so slightly when his head hit the pillow, revealing his dark hair to be ruffled underneath. Several tendrils had escaped entirely and were falling over his face. He looked unusually peaceful. If he hadn’t just spoken, Betty might have assumed he was asleep.

Betty closed her eyes too, a weightless feeling washing over her as she allowed herself to relax a moment. She wasn’t very good at this. It was something she’d had to work at over the years, learning to let everything go. The tension, the fears, the over awareness. All of it followed her around, nagging at her in the back of her mind, and popping back up when she least expected it. These days, all trace of it’s physical effects were gone, but Betty knew better than anyone that thoughts could leave their own mark. Here in this moment, however, she felt unusually serene.

Betty opened her eyes again, glancing sideways. She was a little startled to find that, Jughead had been watching her.

“Hi,” he murmured softly, his eyes meeting hers.

Betty looked back up at the ceiling quickly, feeling herself smile. The kind of uncontrollable smile that you couldn’t hold in. She was struck by a sudden urge to roll over, and then shuffle across just a little bit more until there was no space between them at all. But if ever there was an inappropriate place to do this, it seemed to be now.

“You look really pretty today,” he said quietly, his voice sure and certain.

Betty allowed this observation to sink in, feeling it wash over her, and suddenly felt very shy. She lifted her arms and folded them over her face, hiding from him and hiding from herself.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice muffled by her arms.

There was movement next to her. She felt his hand catch her arm, and Jughead gently pulled her arm back away from her face, making eye contact with her as he came back into view. She blinked as her eyes readjusted to the light.

“How much trouble will we be in if we just…leave…” he pondered, his hand still resting on her arm.

Betty giggled, staring back up at the ceiling. “Well,” she started, “I’ll probably be fine. But I would say that would be a fairly controversial move for you…”

Jughead sighed. “Veronica haaates me this week,” he said, only half jokingly. “And now, I have to live with this fucking L shaped couched too. And I have to pretend to like it. Do you realise how difficult that’s going to be for me?”

Betty could feel uncontrollable laughter bubbling up inside of her. Her shoulders shook slightly as she tried to supress it, suddenly acutely aware that a woman was standing at the end of the bed inspecting the pricing listed on it.

Jughead sat up abruptly and waved at her in a friendly manner. “Do you have an L shaped couch in your house?” he asked her, very seriously.

The woman stared blankly at him. Betty reached out and hit him weakly, losing it completely and giggling uncontrollably.

The woman looked puzzled and a little embarrassed, and walked away hurriedly.

“I’m gonna take that as a no,” Jughead concluded. “And now we can tell Veronica that, statistically speaking, her fancy couch is superfluous.”

“You only asked one person. I don’t think--”

“I’m a lawyer, not a statistician. It’s of no matter.”

Betty watched lazily as he adjusted his hat. And then he held out his hand.

“C’mon. Let’s go.”

She took it.

He led her through the store and out into the street, heading back in the direction of the apartment. It was not a long walk, just a few blocks up town. For the most part, they walked in silence. It was curious, Betty found herself thinking, that you could simply be with someone and find no need to be doing anything specific or talking about anything in particular. She was quite content for them to just be in each others presence. There were undoubtedly things that they could talk about, but now didn’t seem to be the moment.

She wondered for the umpteenth time how she’d spent so much time thinking about all the many things that could go wrong. The reality was that you had to focus the good things, because there was always a chance you could end up with everything. She was going to try this, going forward, she decided.

“Do you want lunch? Late lunch?” Jughead interrupted her thoughts just as they reached Precinct.

Betty nodded. Jughead opened the door to the apartment building with a flourish, ushering her in, and they made their way down the corridor to the elevator.

After the chaos earlier that morning, the calmness of the empty apartment was a welcome relief. But with it came a feeling of nervous apprehension, one that Betty had come to recognise only occurred when she and Jughead found themselves completely alone. It was funny because she spent so much time willing it to happen, yet when it did she was never quite sure how she was going to react. Betty busied herself in the kitchen preparing lunch, focusing intently on the task at hand.

A short while later, Jughead appeared over Betty’s right shoulder, peering nosily at the ingredients. She raised her eyebrows at him.

“Looks good,” he said in approval, leaning against the counter.

Betty could feel him watching her. “What?” she smiled.

Jughead caught her hand as she went to reach for the salt and pepper, and Betty stopped. He tugged gently on her hand until she stumbled into him, her breath catching a little in her throat as he closed the distance between them. Betty pressed her lips together and swallowed. She could feel his gaze fixed on her, but couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his eyes. She found herself staring intently at his shoulder, her heart thumping so loudly she wondered if he could feel it too.

If he could, he didn’t comment. Instead, he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Betty took a leap of faith and shifted her gaze slightly to make eye contact. His eyes were reassuring. They flickered down, briefly focusing on her lips, before returning to meet hers and betraying the most subtle of smiles. And then she felt his fingers tangle in her hair, his thumb press gently behind her ear, and he kissed her.

He lingered just long enough for Betty to register this, and then she felt him pull away slightly, his forehead dropping to rest on hers. Betty exhaled shakily and reached up and draped her arms around his shoulders, pulling herself towards him as he ducked down and caught her lips in his again. She felt him wrap his arms around her waist and smiled against his lips, supressing a giggle, as he kissed her again and again.

And Betty knew he hadn’t heard the apartment door open or the voices in the hall, because it took a moment for him to react when she jumped back hastily at the noise. Flustered, she resumed her meal preparation duties with even more focus than before, all before Jughead had even processed what was happening. He was still standing uncertainly in the middle of the kitchen looking dazed when Veronica appeared behind him.

“Hi,” she said sharply, carrying several bags into the kitchen and setting them down on the counter.

Neither Betty or Jughead said anything.

Veronica paused, clearly confused.

Betty readied herself and turned around. “Hey” she said, in what she hoped was a successful attempt at feigned nonchalance.

But Veronica was staring at Jughead, who had now progressed from looking dazed to slightly guilty. “What’s wrong with you?” she said bluntly. Veronica glanced around the room suspiciously. “Did you break something?”

Jughead cleared his throat, looking awkward. “Nn-nope.”

Veronica stared at him a moment longer before rolling her eyes and disappearing back down the hall.

Betty glanced again at Jughead, who threw his hands up in the air exaggeratedly and promptly exited the kitchen also.

Betty took this opportunity to fix her hair, pulling it back into place. She then paused, resting her hands on the counter momentarily and looking up at the ceiling.

She breathed out slowly, and turned her attention back to preparing lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely feedback about the most recent chapter. It's much appreciated. 
> 
> It's very helpful for me so I always welcome it - please let me know what your thoughts are if you have a moment this time around!
> 
> love to all


	11. When to Ask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

It was 9pm before Betty started packing up.

She was the last one there, hunched over her desk and surrounded by files, stacks of paper and empty coffee cups. Her colleagues had long since left, not one of them stopping to ask why she was still there.

Betty wasn’t even sure she would have known the answer to that question. It wasn’t like she’d managed to achieve much in the last few hours. There wasn’t even anyone there to see how hard she was trying. Instead, the piece she was working on was still in a state of complete disarray, and she was no less confused than she’d been earlier on in the day. Betty felt a nasty sick feeling at the thought of returning to work the following morning to resume her struggle. She wasn’t sure how she was ever going to get this feature to a point of completion.

Betty’s walk home along the dimly lit waterfront was slow. It was curious to be treading this familiar path at a different hour. By comparison with her normal commute, there was almost no one around. The walkway felt strangely eerie. Betty was pleased to arrive back at Precinct, slipping quickly inside the building. It took a moment for her eyes to readjust to the bright light, and Betty found herself acknowledging a tight, strained feeling pulsing somewhere around her forehead. The kind of tension that came with spending 12 hours in a day staring at a computer screen. The kind of tension that came with not being able to let something go.

Betty stood outside the entrance to their apartment for a moment, trying to pull together some semblance of poise and control. And then, she opened the door and walked in.

The kitchen was empty, and she was surprised by this. It was rare that she came home to find the apartment unoccupied. However, someone had clearly been home at some point that evening, because there was a covered meal sitting on the bench. It was no longer warm. Next to it was a scrap of paper with Betty’s full name scrawled on it, surely a tell tale sign that this had been Jughead’s doing.

She was grateful. The last thing she felt like doing right now was cook; there really were no bounds to his sweetness. She pocketed the scrap of paper and briefly reheated the bowl of pasta and vegetables, settling down in her regular seat at the breakfast bar to eat it.

Betty felt sure she could not be the only recent graduate to be in this position. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting from her first real job, but this overwhelming insecurity and crippling lack of confidence had not been part of it. It was difficult to even pinpoint the heart of the issue. Some days she thought that she had everything under control, but as expectations of her increased she was starting to feel increasingly incompetent.

Katelyn, she had noticed, did not seem to be experiencing this same angst. Betty envied Katelyn’s seemingly resolute belief in her own abilities, while still being able to ask for help when she needed it. It was a fine balance, and she just seemed to have it mastered. Betty couldn’t help but suspect her own somewhat self-effacing personality was partly to blame for her inability to do the same.

She finished her pasta and got up to rinse her plate, popping it in the dishwasher and then setting it to go. There were not enough words to describe how tired she was. It was clearly time for bed. She turned out the lights and padded wearily down the hall to her room, closing the door behind her. Unable to gather the energy to unpack her belongings, she dropped them haphazardly on the floor, collapsing heavily onto her bed. She knew this to be foolish. Pausing momentarily now would only serve her reason to have to get back up again and get ready for bed properly. But she did it anyway, barely making an effort to fight the sensation of imminent sleep.

 

***

 

The next thing Betty registered was feeling immensely dazed and confused. The kind of dazed and confused she associated with waking from a nap far sooner than she would have liked. Her bedroom light was still on and she was still fully dressed, both of which observations seemed to indicate something was not quite right. Bleary eyed, Betty checked her phone, vaguely wondering if it had been hours or days that had passed, and realised it was still only a little past midnight. She sighed heavily. If nothing else, at least there was still a good seven hours until she had to contemplate going back to work.

Betty dragged herself up off the bed to change into her pyjamas and brush her teeth. She popped out to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, and while she was there acknowledged that there were several items of clothing in the living area that had not been there earlier in the evening. The others had clearly all returned home while she was asleep. Although, where they had been was still a mystery to her.

Betty turned the lights back out and pattered back down the hall in the dark to her room. She was just about retire to her room for the second time that evening, when she realised that dim light was shining though the gap between the carpet and the bottom of Jughead’s door.

Betty paused.

Two weeks ago, she would have disregarded this. It was, after all, none of her business if other people kept slightly absurd hours. But it was not two weeks ago, and if she was being entirely objective, she was no longer able to classify Jughead as simply another person. Other people didn’t hold her hand, walk her home from work or casually kiss her when her roommates left the room briefly. She wasn’t exactly sure how she was supposed to classify him, but she supposed they would get to that eventually. Maybe.

Betty tiptoed past her own door, stopping quietly outside Jughead’s. She lifted her hand, paused for a moment, and then knocked very lightly.

There was no answer.

Betty stood there, suddenly feeling awkward. She wondered momentarily if she would be doing this if she wasn’t so goddamn exhausted. It was midnight, after all, and generally speaking one didn’t bother people at this hour. She was--

“Come in.”

She hesitated, thrown off by the delayed response, and then turned the handle very quietly and pushed the door open. A bedside lamp lit up the room with a soft glow. Jughead was sitting on his bed, typing on his laptop. His legs were outstretched and he was leaning against some pillows. She noticed he wasn't wearing his hat. He looked up from his laptop and smiled, waving her in. 

“Hey.”

Betty stepped pushed the door open a little more and stepped in, looking around. She hadn’t been in this room since the day she’d moved into the apartment. It was neat and organised, with a muted minimalist feel to it. She closed the door behind her.

“Why are you up?” she said softly.

He didn’t look up, having resumed typing. “Couldn’t sleep,” he said absent-mindedly.

Betty nodded, glancing around the room and approaching a bookcase upon which were a few framed photos. Betty recognised one of them with Veronica, Archie and her as having been taken before the Young Professional’s Ball, and smiled. Next to it was an older one of Veronica, Archie and Jughead that looked to have been taken during their college days. The one that most caught Betty’s interest showed a girl who looked to be no older than twenty. She dark hair and familiar looking angular features, and she was carrying a toddler on her hip. Betty looked over at Jughead, confused, to find him watching her.

“My sister,” he explained. “And my niece.”

Betty smiled again, suddenly understanding. “She looks like you.” Betty glanced back at the photo. “Do they live nearby?”

“Upstate with my mom. So I don’t seem them much. Sometimes they come to visit.”

This was not much but it felt like a break through. Betty wasn’t going to push it by probing further. She crossed the room and perched on the side of his bed watching him type.

“And why are _you_ up?” Jughead queried.

“I accidentally fell asleep when I got home from work…and now I’m awake again,” she grumbled.

“You were at work late,” he observed.

Betty couldn’t not remember this. “I know.”

Jughead looked up from his laptop. “We weren’t sure where you were. We went to Archie’s gig.”

 _Archie’s gig_.

Betty clapped her hand over her mouth in horror. They had talked about Archie’s gig only yersterday. She’d agreed to go along – she’d been looking forward to it. She didn’t understand how it had completely escaped her.

“Oh my god.” She buried her face in her hands. “I forgot Archie’s gig. I don’t understand how I didn’t remember that.” She looked back up at Jughead. “Does he think I’m a terrible person?” she asked frantically. “I’m so sorry - wait, he’s not even here. How--“

“Betty!” Jughead reached out and placed a hand on her arm. “It’s okay. I guarantee you he doesn’t think you’re a terrible person. We figured you were probably still at the office. He’ll understand.”

Archie probably would understand. He was a very understanding person. But that didn’t really make it okay. Betty chewed her lip nervously, aware he was still watching her.

“It’s okay,” he repeated. “Relax.”

“I’m not good at that.”

“I can tell.”

Jughead patted the empty space next to him on the bed. Betty slid across to sit next to him, leaning back against the wall. She flattened her hands against the bed on either side of her in an attempt to release some tension. “I worked 12 hours today.”

Jughead folded his arms. “That…explains a lot.”

“I didn’t even get anything done,” she said bleakly. “I can’t do any of it. It’s too hard”

“Did you ask for help?”

She wasn’t good at that either.

Jughead appeared to interpret her silence accurately. “You shouldn’t be afraid to ask for help,” he said simply. “It’s to be expected. That’s how people learn. If you don’t need help, you’re either overconfident, or underemployed.”He gave her a moment to think about this.

“And that,” he continued, closing his laptop, “applies to life outside of work too.” He reached out and covered her hand with his, folding his fingers under her palm. “You don’t have to deal with everything by yourself,” he finished quietly.

His voice was more gentle than she’d ever imagined, and it was making her eyes watery. All she’d wanted was for Jughead to open up. And yet, here she was, unable to do so herself. Betty swallowed. She’d always dealt with things herself. It gave her agency. It allowed her to maintain control of how others saw her. It avoided judgement. And she'd also always thought she needed to be alone until she’d figured everything out. But maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe she needed to realise that she could do that with someone else. She’d done a great job of hiding everything over the years, but it had not really done her any good.

“I know,” she said tightly. “I know that now.”

Jughead leaned over the side of the bed and tucked his laptop our of harm's way. He shifted slightly to push the covers back, the mattress sinking as he lay down, and flopped back against the pillows. “It’s late,” he murmured, pulling over the covers and folding his arms across his face.

Betty was unable to read him, something she later contemplated may have been intentional. Consequently, she didn’t do anything for a moment. But then she drew her legs to her chest and slipped under the covers on the other side of the bed. She saw him peak one eye open as she shuffled to get comfortable, and then he reached over to turn out the bedside lamp.

She was still adjusting the blankets when she felt him slink over to her and wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. He dropped his head to her chest, his hair lightly tickling her chin. Betty sighed.

“You are much more cuddly than you initially appear,” she murmured.

He laughed a bit, nuzzling closer. “I’m an enigma,” he said sleepily, his muffled words reverberating against her chest.

There was no arguing with that.

 

***

 

“Betty.”

She rolled over sleepily, burrowing further into the covers, refusing to acknowledge the day.

“Betty.”

A gentle nudge to her shoulder alerted Betty to the fact that she was not dreaming; she was not alone. Suddenly incredibly alert, she sat up, startled. Subtle morning light was leaking through the blinds, lighting up the room just enough for her to see Jughead recoil in shock at the haste with which she appeared to have regained consciousness.

“You have to get up,” he said meekly. “Sorry.”

“Oh.” Betty to a moment to process this. “Are Veronica and Arch--“

“No. Not yet. So you gotta go now.”

Betty slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the room delicately. She paused to listen at the door, her hand hovering over the door knob. And then, thinking better of this, she changed her mind and turned back, picking her way back to the bed. She could just make out Jughead in the shadows. She leaned over and pressed a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, before tiptoeing back across the room and slipping out the door.

A short time later Betty was showered and dressed, eating breakfast with Veronica. Veronica was up unusually early. This was not something Betty did not like to think about too much, given she was trying to be discrete about where she'd woken up this morning. Veronica was very understanding of Betty’s mind blank the previous evening about Archie’s gig. If anything, she more concerned about Betty’s extended working hours than anything else.

Betty appreciated the concern, but did find herself wondering if Veronica had ever worked in a high pressure environment and found herself suffocating under the weight of expectation. Veronica was both startlingly self-assured and employed by her family’s business. As much as Betty loved her and held great respect for her, it did occur to her that perhaps Veronica fell into the category of people Jughead had described as being overconfident and underemployed.

Jughead chose this exact moment to enter the room and acknowledge them.

“Veronica. Elizabeth.”

Betty waved vaguely, suddenly becoming very interested in her bowl of porridge.

Veronica stared at him, her hands on her hips. “Jughead you look exhausted. Did you sleep okay last night?”

Jughead pulled a box of cereal out of the pantry. “Thank you for concern, Veronica. I slept well.”

“You look dreadful,” she reiterated.

Jughead frowned at her. “Geez. Any other complaints? What about Betty? Does she look dreadful too?”

Veronica peered at Betty and then turned back to him. “No," she said bluntly. "Betty always looks beautiful.”

Jughead opened his mouth and then closed it again, before going back to his breakfast. Veronica poked her tongue out at him behind his back.

They ate the rest of their breakfast in silence. And then Veronica gathered all three of their plates and stacked them in the dishwasher. Betty fetched her lunch from the fridge, and Jughead filled up his water bottle. He paused part way through to water one of Veronica’s nearby pot plants, saying idly, “here ya go buddy.” Both Veronica and Betty both observed this with some amusement.

“Do you want to get dinner with Katelyn tonight?” Veronica asked Betty, as she gathered the rest of her things to leave.

Jughead choked on a mouthful of water and spluttered slightly over the kitchen sink. Veronica looked mildly repulsed, before turning back to Betty hopefully.

Betty nodded as she popped her lunch in her bag, backing out of the kitchen. “Sounds good. See you after work.”

Jughead leaned over and kissed Betty absent-mindedly on the forehead as she passed him.

Betty froze.

Veronica, stood right next to them, did a double-take. She looked uncertain as to whether what she’d just seen had actually happened. There was an awkward pause, during which time a sheepish expression Betty had never seen before spread slowly across Jughead’s face.

And then, as though he’d intended it all along, Jughead leaned over and casually kissed Veronica on the forehead too. He clapped once resoundingly as he pulled back. “Great. Have a good day both of you,” he said, spinning around and disappearing down the hall.

Veronica looked at Betty, utterly perplexed. Betty was suspended somewhere between disbelief and relief. She couldn't believe Veronica hadn’t cottoned on, and settled for offering  a shrug.

“He’s so fucking weird,” Veronica said, shaking her head in bewilderment. “I told you he didn’t sleep properly last night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I post a chapter I feel like I've run out of words, and I wonder how the next one will possibly come to life. Then I wake up the next morning and you guys have come through with alll the encouragement - and here we are again. I can't thank you enough - I really mean that. 
> 
> This story is very important to me, for reasons we will get to later on. But in the mean time, please know that I am very grateful for each and every one of you. Love to hear your thoughts ❤️


	12. Juggling Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

“Pass the salad Betty?”

Betty obliged, handing over the bowl of greens to Veronica. Together with Katelyn, they’d finally succeeded in meeting after dinner for work, albeit over a week after they’d initially intended to do so. Finding a time that worked for all three of them had proved difficult.

“And so anyway,” Veronica said, resuming her story as she helped herself to more salad, “I just cannot deal with Jughead anymore. It’s too much. It’s like when you spend too much time with your family and suddenly every single little thing they do starts to annoy you. Even their breathing. And then you’re just grumpy _all_ the time.”

Katelyn nodded imploringly. “Tell me about it. As someone who recently moved back in with family after college, I empathize, truly. Maybe you should politely ask him to leave, and then I can move in?” she laughed, not entirely joking.

Veronica appeared to genuinely consider this for a moment, even going so far as to look quite satisfied at the idea. And then she shook her head. “Believe me,” she said. “Right now, there is nothing more appealing. But no, I couldn’t do that to him.”

“Meh,” said Katelyn flippantly. “I’m sure he could find some other unsuspecting roommates and talk them into accommodating him.”

This was undoubtedly true. Betty had always been intrigued by Veronica’s loyalty to Jughead. She’d thought at first it was derived purely from him being her boyfriend’s best friend. But increasingly, she felt there was something she was missing.

“Why wouldn’t you be able to do that?” Betty asked, curiosity getting the better of her guilt about snooping.

Veronica put down her fork. “Because he trusts me,” she said simply. “He’s had a lot of people walk out on him in his life, and he’s dealt with some heavy stuff. He’s not very trusting in general as a result of that, and I can see why. I would feel bad.” She shrugged, but Betty knew that she meant what she said.

“His parents?” Katelyn questioned.

Veronica nodded. “Yeah. His dad’s in jail and his mom left when he was quite little. He doesn’t speak with either of them, as I understand it. He does have a little sister and niece. I haven’t seen much of them recently, but I do know he sends them money. They live with his mom.”

Katelyn looked taken aback. Betty was starting to feel a little uncomfortable about having this conversation in Jughead’s absence, but still found herself wondering how someone who had clearly had a hard run of life could remain such a genuine, good person. Beneath his gregarious exterior, he was all kindness and optimism and quiet confidence.

“Archie and I are his family,” Veronica finished. “Not Betty, though” she added smirking in Betty’s direction. “Jughead is in love with Betty. I can tell.”

Betty felt herself go bright red and gave Veronica a deploring look.

“Ah yes,” Katelyn said, seizing this piece of information with renewed vigour. “And how is that going?”

“Katelyn,” Betty winced. “You always ask that!”

“That’s because I feel it needs to be addressed. And thus, how is it going?”

Betty looked up at the ceiling, resolutely avoiding both of them, but knowing at least that Veronica had nothing to report.

“It’s not,” Veronica said flatly.

 _Wrong_.

“Like, if I hadn’t been so annoyed at him recently I might have been able to something about it,” she continued.

 _Wrong, again_.

Veronica sighed. “I suppose he’ll get it together eventually.”

_Would he, though?_

“Well,” said Katelyn, finishing the last of her drink. “He better act fast. Betty doesn’t have all year. Tell him she’s got options.”

Betty buried her face in her arms, willing this conversation to be over. She wasn’t sure whether she was more nervous about her love life being a focus point or the thinly veiled secret she’d been keeping now for some weeks. It was still astonishing to her that Veronica and Archie hadn’t caught on. Particularly Veronica, and especially after the incident in the kitchen last week. Although, now that Veronica had aired the full extent of her frustration with him lately, perhaps her blissful ignorance was a little more easily explained.

Most of what Betty had taken from all of this was that Veronica hadn’t watched enough episodes of F.R.I.E.N.D.S in her life. For that she was simultaneously grateful and disapproving.

“I just copied Chandler,” Jughead had said to her a short time afterwards.

“I know,” Betty had retorted. “You’re not very original.”

As with many things, their narrow escape had seemed to go to Jughead’s head a little. Initially also disbelieving that Veronica hadn’t caught on, he had spent the ensuing days basking in his own success.

“Sometimes I feel how everyone feels," he told them after work several days later, "which is that I could be the star of a very successful sitcom."

Betty had not found this comment particularly discrete. It was made worse by the fact that she was starting to wonder if it was true. It was fundamentally awkward to be involved in a secret-possible-maybe-relationship with one’s roommate, but such fodder would undoubtedly provide amusement for others. The overall outcome of all of this was that the two of them really hadn’t spent as much time together alone in the last week. It was disappointing.

“Betty, it’s okay!” She heard Veronica giggling. “We’ll stop teasing.”

Betty remerged from her arms, looking resentful.

“I have to get going, anyway,” said Katelyn, reaching for her bag. “This has been real. Let’s do it again sometime.”

She hugged Veronica and Betty goodbye and turned to leave. “Betty, I’ll see you at work tomorrow. Peace out.”

Betty felt her stomach churn slightly at the thought of work tomorrow, and the meeting she’d organised with her manager.

Veronica stared after Katelyn thoughtfully as both of them gathered their things to leave. “She’s so different to you, Betty,” she observed.

“I know.”

Betty knew that Veronica didn't mean it in a bad way. But at times Betty was painfully aware of this. Katelyn’s brimming confidence, bubbly personality and amicable chatter were just some of the things that set the two of them apart. Betty frequently found herself wondering how it was that the two of them were even friends. The reality was that the only thing they had in common was the same job. As much as she enjoyed spending time with Katelyn, Betty didn't like second guessing everything. Of late, she had found herself wondering whether she just liked the idea of being friends with someone from work. The feeling of belonging.

More disconcerting to think about, was what it was that Katelyn liked about her?

The funny thing about leaving college was that you suddenly had to make a whole new group of friends. It was also much harder to find them; to find people who were your age, and who shared your interests and who needed you as much as you needed them.

Unless, of course, you happened to stumble upon a pre-established group of roommates with several years of history, who were willing to induct you.

Betty had been fairly lucky thus far, but it didn’t make figuring it all out going forward any easier.

 

***

 

The door was ajar, but Betty knocked first anyway.

“Come in?”

Betty pushed it open a little and stepped into the senior editor’s office. “Hi Eleanor. Do you have a moment?”

“Of course, Betty. Come in.”

Betty pushed the door closed behind her. Eleanor was sitting at her desk, but spun around on her chair and wheeled over to a small table in the corner of her office. She was tall with dark hair and distinctive glasses. Betty had found her intimidating from the outset, not aided by the fact that her manner was brisk and efficient.

“Take a seat,” Eleanor said, gesturing at an empty chair and giving her a piercing gaze. “How can I help?”

Betty pressed her lips together nervously, and summonsed all of her courage. Or rather, what was left of it these days. “Sorry. I know you’re busy. I just wanted to talk about the assignment you gave me last week. I’ve been…struggling a little bit. And I was hoping you could please give me a bit more... guidance.”

Betty paused, her breathing a little shallow. She was genuinely unsure what Eleanor’s response to this was going to be. But the project was casting a dark shadow of uncertainty and self-doubt over almost every aspect of her life. It had been following her around all week, and the situation was getting dire. She’d run out of options, and perhaps Jughead’s suggestion to actually vocalise the issue had been prudent. There was only one way to find out.

Eleanor looked at her very intently for a moment, and then folded her hands across her lap. “That’s understandable. It’s a difficult subject matter,” came her response. “If you’d like, I can assign a more experienced junior to assist you with it. Would that be helpful?”

Betty felt oddly disbelieving at being presented with a solution to this hitherto seemingly impossible task. “Ahh,” she stuttered. “That would be…really helpful. Thank you. I would appreciate that.”

Eleanor smiled at her. “You’re welcome. And Betty, next time you find something challenging, be sure to come and ask for help sooner. You don’t have to apologise, either.” Her tone was warmer now.

“Okay. Thank you.”

“How is everything else going?”

Betty opened her mouth to tell her it was all going very well and also thank you very much, because that was her automatic response to everything. But then she paused and thought about it a moment longer. “It’s okay,” she said hesitantly. “I do feel like I’m struggling a bit, though.”

Eleanor nodded thoughtfully. “You really shouldn’t,” she said. “You’re doing a great job, Betty. We don’t expect you to know everything. There will be times when you need some assistance, and that’s okay. Alas, we don’t learn anything unless we are a bit uncomfortable at times.”

Betty smiled politely, wondering how to explain that her level of discomfort was so high it was stopping her from learning anything at all.

Eleanor took off her glasses and placed them on the table in front of them. “What I would suggest, though, is that you relax your expectations of yourself a little.”

Betty frowned, a little confused.

Eleanor’s expression softened. “We don’t want you to be unhappy at work. You have a lot of potential Betty, you need only be a little kinder to yourself. I have a daughter who is very like you. I have tremendous admiration for her dedication and work ethic, but I worry that the expectations she sets for herself are so high they’re unachievable. It’s not necessary to put that kind of pressure on yourself. It just makes everything harder. The transition from college to full time employment is difficult enough as it as, and, like I said, you’re doing well.”

Betty’s felt her lip wobble a little, trying to process this unexpected but not entirely unwelcome development in her day. She nodded slowly, and swallowed. “Ahh, okay,” she breathed out. “Thank you very much. I’ll keep that in mind.”

It was true. She would.

Eleanor picked her glasses back up and put them on, and Betty recognised the conversation as having come to an end. She smiled at Eleanor and stood up, crossing back over to the door. She waited for a moment before opening it.

“Eleanor?”

The senior editor looked back up from her desk, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Do you have to tell graduates this often?”

“No.” Eleanor paused. “But someone once had to say it to me. So I’m always on the look out.”

Betty smiled as she closed the door behind her, and in that moment a weight she had been carrying around on her shoulders for some time now, lifted noticeably. It was curious how you could build up a fear of someone or something in your head, only to discover how very wrong you had been.

It was the people you hardly knew that could change your life the most dramatically. Not your friends, and not your family. The people that saw things as they really were. The people that could talk objectively when you couldn’t apply that kind of rationality yourself.

Betty sat back down at her desk at looked at the file, now knowing she had all anyone ever needed to make anything happen.

A plan, and not quite enough time.

 

***

 

“Where are Veronica and Archie?”

Jughead was standing the kitchen sink washing dishes when she arrived home. “What…I’m not enough?” he said in mock offence.

Betty rolled her eyes, dropping her bags and collapsing down on the L shaped couch. “I’m serious, where are they?”

“At a Lodge work function.”

“Oh.”

Betty watched him tidy the rest of the kitchen counter. He put some glasses away in the cupboard, straightened Veronica’s blender and reorganised some magnets on the refrigerator. He had just finished replenishing the fruit bowl when Betty stood up and walked over to the kitchen. Without any warning, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He stood there motionless, his arms trapped by his sides, perhaps a little alarmed by the abruptness of this. Betty buried her face in his t-shirt, and didn't say anything.

“Is everything okay?”

She could hear concern in his voice. Betty nodded into his shoulder. “Yes,” she replied, her voice muffled. “I talked to my editor.”

“Sorry?”

“At work. I asked for help.”

Jughead didn’t say anything for a moment, but his silence felt significant. She felt him move slightly against her and she loosened her hold a little. He lifted his arms from his sides and wrapped them around her shoulders, resting his chin on the top of her head. “Well done.”

“It wasn’t even that bad," Betty said, still surprised by this.

Jughead chuckled slightly, and Betty felt it reverberate against her. “I know,” he said softly. There was a pause, and then seemingly unable to help it, he added “I told you.”

Betty pulled back and looked up at him to reprimand his smug tone.

“I’m kidding,” he said hastily. “I don’t know anything. I told you nothing.”

Betty giggled. She let go of him and stepped back, hopping up to sit on the counter he’d just cleared, her legs swinging casually.

“What did she say?” His voice was careful.

Betty thought about this a moment, wondering how to summarise Eleanor’s words. “That I shouldn’t worry. That I should ask if I need more help. And that I should be…less hard on myself.”

Jughead smiled. “All astute things.”

“Yes.”

“Although,” he continued, “I’d imagine not altogether easy to establish."

“No.”

Betty fidgeted uncomfortably. “I am inherently very anxious. Just in general. And it’s a problem.”

Jughead nodded. He seemed to understand implicitly. He did not, however, seem surprised. Betty wasn't sure she'd articulated this clearly enough for him to grasp the full extent of her situation, but she was relieved to have finally said something out loud anyway. It was a new feeling to vocalise this, to decide to share more than met the eye. Even the parts of herself she didn’t like very much.

“It’s getting easier,” she added. “But I still have some things to figure out.”

“Most people do.”

It sounded so simple when he said it. Betty could tell he was including himself in this statement. The admission in itself was reassuring.

Jughead reached over and sorted through the fruit bowl he’d just replenished, selecting and holding in his hands what Betty counted to be five mandarins. “Would you like to see a spectacular visual representation of your life right now?”

Betty looked wary, but Jughead opted to take that as a yes. And then Betty’s mouth fell open in amazement as he started juggling; all five mandarins cycling rhythmically through the air in perfect arcs. She watched, transfixed, as he juggled her graduate job, the apartment, her new friends, her hopes and her fears all right there in front of her. And all the while he ambled around the kitchen, looking casual while still concentrating intently.

Betty heard the apartment door open and the sound of voices approaching. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Veronica and Archie enter the room. Neither of them said anything. Instead both of them sat up at the breakfast bar and watched. While also transfixed, Betty got the impression it was not the first time they’d witnessed this. Jughead continued his act for a few moments longer, before catching all five mandarins with a final flourish.

He turned to Veronica and Archie. “Welcome.” He tossed two mandarins at Archie, who caught them both and passed one to Veronica.

Veronica watched Archie peel his and start eating it. “Did you drop this?” she asked Jughead pointedly.

“No.”

Veronica looked reassured, and started peeling her mandarin.

Jughead turned back to Betty, who was still perched on the counter. “But the point is,” he said, holding a mandarin out to her, “would it matter if I did?”

“Yes,” Veronica interjected flatly, missing the point entirely.

Jughead didn’t acknowledge her, instead smiling knowingly at Betty. Betty reached out to take the piece of fruit. As she did so, she shook her head in answer to his question.

Because he was right.

It didn’t really matter. The reality was she couldn’t control everything. And even though she knew that, really, deep down inside, it always helped to have someone remind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was overwhelmed by the response to the last chapter. Thank you so much. I really love that Chandler and Monica are so universally recognised and loved by everyone - including Jughead!
> 
> Sorry I haven't been able to reply to all of your comments this time around. Have this instead, for now, as a token of my gratitude.


	13. The Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

Betty didn't think she'd ever been on such an inefficient trip to Whole Foods. There was really no hope for any of them. But for Archie, of course, who had been notably absent at the precise time Veronica had announced her desire to tick off the last of her domestic to-do list for the weekend.

Betty watched, both amused and exasperated, as Jughead placed several items in the shopping cart, only for Veronica to remove them - apparently deeming all of them unnecessary.

"We don't eat white bread."

Jughead gave Veronica a piteous look. "Veronica, you don't eat white bread. And that is your prerogative. But don’t deny Betty, Archie and I that pleasure.”

Veronica ignored him.

“We eat the refined carbs we think we deserve,” Jughead persisted, more Betty thought for melodramatic effect than any thing else.

"Go away."

Jughead looked at Veronica hopefully. "Go home?"

"No! We need you to help carry the groceries back to Precinct. That’s your one redeeming quality!" 

Jughead raised his palms and made a sad face. Veronica chose to ignore him yet again, instead opting to carefully survey the vast selection of breads on display, in search of one to her liking.

Betty saw Jughead throw Veronica a look of mild distaste, and then take the opportunity to slip a large block of chocolate in the shopping cart before she refocused her attention. He covered it discretely with some vegetables and winked at Betty, who did her best to maintain a straight face.

Easier said than done. As always.

"Oh look! Salmon is on special!" Veronica gasped, nothing short of delighted by this discovery.

"Thank god," Jughead muttered dryly, his words audible to Betty only. "You would never have been able to afford it."

Betty swatted his arm disapprovingly, and pushed him out of the way slightly so she could follow Veronica with the shopping cart. She made a mental note to never go grocery shopping with the two of them ever again. If she’d thought this through, surely she could have predicted this scenario. It was becoming clear to her that’s Archie's convenient absence at the time of departure for said trip may have been even more strategic than she'd suspected.

The shopping cart she was pushing suddenly veered abruptly to the left as Jughead hopped up onto the side of the cart to hitch a ride. Betty reacted quickly to regain control, only stopping to frown at him once she'd succeeded. Naturally he was not dissuaded by this. He grinned widely at her. “Hi!”

Betty held a hand up to the side of her face, blocking him from view and refusing to look at him as she pushed the cart along. He reached out and gently pulled her hand away from her face, still grinning. Betty smiled but refused to look at him. 

"You are...so annoying," she muttered, unable to refrain from giggling slightly despite this very truthful observation. "I cannot condone this kind of behaviour in Whole Foods."

“It’s good for Veronica. Keep’s her on her toes,” he said.

Betty very much doubted this. Veronica was perusing Whole Foods in patent heels and was clearly already on her toes. She had also become increasingly fractious throughout the morning, and if anyone were to be implicated in this it would certainly be Jughead.

Still trailing behind Veronica with the shopping cart, Betty reached the end of the isle and turned carefully into the next one. Veronica was now moving at some haste, and hadn't actually deposited anything in the cart for a while. Betty suspected she was looking for something very specific, and wondered if perhaps following along behind her was a somewhat futile exercise at this point.

"Halt!"

Betty stopped suddenly, looking at Jughead confused. He gestured for her to reverse the cart slightly, and when she obliged he reached out and grabbed a box of cereal off the shelf and dropped it in the cart. “As you were,” he said, his tone cheerful.

Betty stared at him with a degree of contempt, before pressing on wordlessly. Veronica had disappeared from sight now, swallowed up by the crowds of people also completing their grocery shopping on this absurdly busy Sunday.

Jughead hopped off the side of the cart unexpectedly, and Betty watched him approach a small child who was jumping up and down, desperately trying to reach a packet of chocolate biscuits.

"Almost!"

The child turned around at the sound of Jughead’s voice, and stared at him apprehensively, looking slightly defeated. 

"Need a hand?"

The child nodded. For a moment Betty thought Jughead was going to pass down the biscuits, but instead he hoisted the child up so he was level with the chocolate biscuits on the shelf. 

Betty closed her eyes briefly, finally losing a fighting battle against that uncontrollable smile that only he seemed to be able to bring out of her. She opened her eyes again just in time to see him lower the child back to the ground and offer him a high five. 

The child ran off with a smile, presumably in search of his parents, clutching the chocolate biscuits in his arms. Betty watched Jughead saunter back over to her, completely unaffected by his efforts.

"What?" Jughead frowned slightly at her expression.

Betty shook her head, still smiling. "Nothing."

"You're quite giggly today, Cooper."

Jughead tucked in behind Betty, gesturing for her to stand on the lower bar of the shopping cart and offering her a ride. He held out his arm for her to steady herself upon as she did so. And then, with his arms on either side of her, Jughead resumed control of the cart. He wove down the isle, navigating the throngs of people, and not stopping until they reached the end. The back of Veronica’s head came into view just as they reached the baking section, at which point Jughead stepped aside to let Betty down, and she resumed the cart pushing duties.

“Do you think we should bake something?” Veronica asked Betty as they approached.

“I would support that wholeheartedly,” Jughead interjected.

“I didn’t ask you.”

Jughead held up his palms and made a sad face, again. Betty rather suspected this of being his preferred new means of irritation. It was certainly working.

“Sure!” Betty said hastily, hoping to soften Veronica’s death glare and perhaps keep what was left of the peace. “Whatever you had in mind, Veronica.”

There were times that Betty could virtually see Veronica picturing alternative living scenarios in her head - none of which she thought were likely to include Jughead. It was true that in such scenarios Veronica would probably be less haughty, and less irritated, and would stalk out of fewer rooms and slam fewer doors. But it was also true she would likely laugh less. And as a consequence, one might say she would be worse off overall. But at times such as these, it was hard to say.

Jughead asked the person at the checkout more questions about Whole Foods than he’d probably ever answered in his entire working career. He was patient at first, but became increasingly short, eventually bringing Jughead’s interrogation to a halt by flatly asking him why he cared. This was probably a question many people wanted to ask of Jughead, but only the unpleasant or angry ones ever actually did.

Jughead apologized insincerely.

 

***

 

By the time they finally got back to Precinct, tension levels were unusually high. Jughead was incensed to find that Archie had returned from the gym in their absence, and had successfully managed to avoid the entire saga. As if by means of dealing with this travesty, he’d picked up the pervasive basketball, and was tossing it recklessly into the air and catching it.

“Veronica made me carry several hundred kilos of canned goods back from Whole Foods,” he told Archie bitterly.

“That’s great,” said Archie. For whom everything was good news, particularly when he didn’t care.

Veronica had already unpacked several unauthorized items from their grocery shopping and seemed to be battling between launching into a tirade and stewing silently. She looked up at Jughead disparagingly. “We only live two blocks from Whole Foods, Jughead. Don’t be such a baby.”

Archie glanced at Betty, clearly underwhelmed by this display of immaturity. And then the two of them saw it happen, as if in slow motion. Jughead misjudged his throw and lunged to catch the basketball. It slipped through his fingers, bouncing across the room, and collided with a nearby vase of flowers. Archie watched in horror and Betty’s hand flew to her mouth as the vase toppled off the kitchen counter. They heard it smash violently over the kitchen tiles, sloshing water and flinging hydrangeas in all directions.

Nobody moved.

Betty watched a look of realization gather over Jughead’s face. She knew that he knew that he’d stuffed up.

Any minute now, Veronica was going to start yelling, Betty was sure of it. Jughead had finally overstepped the mark. He’d been treading a fine line between reckless and strategic, drawing laughs from all angles and avoiding all confrontation, and now it had finally caught up with him.

But Veronica didn’t start yelling. She didn’t really say anything at all. She just stared at the mess before her, her expression blank. Betty stood there next to Archie, awkwardly, afraid to move, but also afraid to witness what was to come next.

“Veronica?” Jughead’s voice hitched slightly, a sober tone to it Betty had never heard before.

Veronica looked up in his direction and stared at him instead ofthe vase. Her expression was still indistinct, but it conveyed all it need to. A weary exhaustion, intermingled with disappointment and resignation. To his credit, Jughead didn’t look way, stoically maintaining constant eye contact.

“You never take anything seriously.” Veronica was almost inaudible, her voice unusually thin.

Jughead shifted awkwardly and said nothing.

“I’m serious. You think everything is a joke,” she continued quietly. “But just because you can make it funny doesn’t mean you always should. Sometimes you have to actually deal with things instead of fobbing people off...”

Her voice cracked, and Betty knew she had more to say, but couldn’t. It wasn’t about the hydrangeas. It wasn’t even about the ugly ornate vase.

The atmosphere was thick and suffocating. And then Jughead was the first person to move. Betty thought for a moment he was going to leave the room, to disappear down the hallway and vanish until further notice. But he didn’t. Instead he walked slowly into the kitchen, right up to Veronica.

“I’m sorry.” He paused. “Veronica, I’m really sorry.”

It was sincere. More so, Betty thought, than most apologies. The kind of sincerity that made him entirely believable, even though not less than half an hour ago he had been putting prohibited groceries in the shopping cart as fast as Veronica removed them. He hid behind games and banter, but when that backfired Betty could see that it cut through him like a knife. In that apology Betty could see, for a moment, all of his fears and insecurities spread before them.

“I didn’t mean it,” he said quietly. “Any of it.”

Veronica chewed on her lip, her face contorted, and didn’t say anything. And then she nodded, only ever so slightly, but enough to acknowledge what he’d said, and perhaps even the way he’d said it.

“I know.”

Jughead stepped forward and hugged her. It took a moment, but Betty saw Veronica hug him back.

Apologies were funny like that. The way nobody really stopped to consider their gravity. The words ‘I’m sorry’ were thrown around with such reckless disregard that they frequently came to hold barely any meaning. Overused and underwhelming, they were just words you were supposed to say. Until you really needed them, and then their value changed immeasurably.

When they broke apart, Jughead knelt down to pick up the broken pieces of the ugly ornate vase, and Veronica to gather the disheveled array of hydrangeas. Betty and Archie tried to look busy, watching as the two of them worked together in silence to clear the kitchen floor.

In the wake of this, Veronica retreated quietly to her room. Jughead, too, disappeared, and was not seen by Betty for the rest of the afternoon.

Betty observed Archie pick up the offending basketball and carry it down to his room. She suspected it would remain there, out of sight, for some time.

 

***

 

The magnitude of Veronica and Jughead’s falling out was felt all afternoon. It was intriguing how something as seemingly insignificant as breaking a vase could resonate on so many levels. It wasn’t until much later in the evening that Betty saw Jughead again. Veronica and Archie had already gone to bed, and Betty was just finishing up the last of the dishes when he arrived back at the apartment.

He nodded slightly in acknowledgement upon finding her in the kitchen, and Betty got the distinct impression he’d anticipated nobody would still be up at this hour.

“Hi,” she said lightly.

“Hey.” He searched through the fridge absent-mindedly, finding nothing, and then closed the door. “Had some shit to do,” he added.

It was unusual for him to be so evasive. She hadn’t asked where he’d been, but she hadn’t really needed to.

“Oh,” she replied. “I missed you.”

He looked confused. “Huh?”

“I missed you. I thought we were going to hang out this afternoon.”

A look of realization crossed his face, followed by mild guilt.

“It’s okay,” Betty continued, and meant it. She hadn’t wanted to make him feel bad. “It doesn’t matter.”

Jughead nodded slowly, loosing slightly awkward, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He thought about it a moment longer, and then said emphatically, “What a shit day.”

Betty giggled, and shrugged in attempted solidarity.

He glanced down the hall. “Are Veronica and Archie home?”

“Yes. They’ve gone to bed.”

“Mmm.”

Betty sensed his unease, and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring look. “She’s fine. Veronica.”

Jughead grimaced a little. “Yeah. I know.” He swallowed visibly. “I still feel bad. I didn’t want to upset her.”

Betty considered this carefully before replying. She didn’t think there were ever circumstances where Jughead intended to upset. Such behavior was far removed from his nature. But there was always something strategic in his interactions. In the way he guarded himself so fiercely from those around him and carefully constructed rapport of no real substance. In the way he avoided asking personal questions because he didn’t want anyone asking any back. In the way he meant what he said, but never really said what he meant.

It was never mean in its intent, but it served to conceal. And that had ramifications.

She’d caught glimpses of what it was like when he let that go, but they were few and far between. And now she’d seen what happened when the façade was broken, quite literally, into a thousand small pieces over the kitchen tiles.

“Of course not,” she said quietly, looking him in the eye. “But sometimes…when you don’t say what you mean, people get confused.”

“About what?” he said slowly, genuinely wanting to know the answer.

_About what we are._

Betty paused. “About what you’re feeling. And why you do the things that you do.”

“That’s very vague, Betty.”

She shook her head. That was the point. It wasn’t vague at all – it was very precise. It was the reason she’d been blindsided by his early behavior, and his inability to delve beyond the surface. It was the reason she wasn’t sure they’d ever be able to bring up the topic of _them_ with Veronica and Archie. It was the reason they were suspended in uncertainty, unclear as to what they were and what they could become. And it was certainly the reason he and Veronica were perpetually at odds, unable to acknowledge what they meant to each other.

But she wasn’t sure how to tell him that, particularly in the wake of his admission that he’d already had a shit day. It seemed churlish to start listing his emotional and communicative flaws, as if justifying the events of today.

Instead she stepped towards him, raised onto her tiptoes and kissed him lightly on the mouth. He smiled down at her slightly as she pulled away from him. Betty reached up and brushed some of the hair escaping from his hat out of his eyes.

“I really like you,” she said softly. Because it was true. But also because it was at the heart of so many of her trepidations. She'd thought he liked her, but unless he was going to actually tell her she going to have trouble genuinely believing it. “We should talk about that sometime.”

He looked a little shell-shocked, and like he didn’t quite know what to say. Or at least, she hoped he didn’t know what to say, because otherwise he did and he just couldn’t bring himself to vocalize it and let her down.

But they weren’t getting anywhere by not talking about it. It was following them around everywhere they went, hanging over them like a cloud with a chance of rain or shine. Unless they addressed it, they would never know what might happen if the sun actually came out.

Betty smiled tightly. “But we don’t have to do it tonight."

She brushed his fingers with her own as she left the kitchen. She headed back down the hall and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for your lovely feedback. It's so uplifting to know that people enjoy and appreciate your work, and it truly makes all the difference when you get stuck in a bit of a rut. Again, all thoughts welcome - perhaps it will help Betty and Jughead out of their rut too! Love to all x


	14. Levels of Engagement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

Two things had made Betty feel rather older than she expected within the last week. First of all, someone had told her that, this month, it was exactly 20 years since JK Rowling published the first Harry Potter book. So there was that. But secondly, she’d been invited to an engagement party.

That said, it was true that she could only use the word ‘invited’ loosely. It was more of a direct order. Veronica had looked comically confused, when Betty admitted to having no knowledge of said function.

“Did Jughead not tell you about Josie’s engagement party?”

“No,” Betty said, shaking her head. “No, he did not tell me about Josie’s engagement party.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “I specifically discussed this with him. He has a plus one! And no date, obviously. You’re definitely coming to Josie’s engagement party.”

Betty was sceptical about this. For starters, she did not know Josie and her fiancé. The two of them were college friends of Veronica, Archie and Jughead, and Betty felt on these grounds there was little reason she should be there. And furthermore, Jughead’s failure to mention the event to her was not an especially good indication he actually wanted her to come with him.

Such a gesture would require some form of communication, she observed dryly.

It had been almost a week since she’d stood in the kitchen and told him she liked him. And still, he hadn’t addressed it. Betty was running out of patience. As far as she was concerned, the ball was in his court. At this stage, all they really both knew was that it definitely wasn’t a basketball. Precinct was a basketball free zone, of that Betty could be certain.

“It’s a bit out of town,” Veronica had gone on. “So, we’re going to stay at my parents’ place over the weekend. It should be great. I’m really looking forward to getting out of the city for a bit for Josie’s engagement party.”

Betty mostly wanted Veronica to stop using the phrase _Josie's engagement party._ She had never heard Josie’s name until 3 minutes ago and was sick of her already. But that had nothing to do with Josie or the party itself, and everything to do with being volunteered as someone else’s plus one because the person in question was too inept to address the matter himself. The weekend itself did sound nice. It was almost a pity Betty hadn’t actually been invited, because now she was apparently going anyway and was going to be haunted by the fear she was imposing.

Veronica was rarely dissuaded by Betty’s silence, and this was no exception. In fact, she was positively gleeful at the idea of lambasting Jughead’s reticence. Betty had noticed this a lot in recent days. In the wake of the vase disaster, Jughead had been fairly subdued. Veronica had finally seized the upper hand, and she was thoroughly enjoying it. Betty could hardly blame her.

And so, Betty was unsurprised when she got home from work that evening to find conversation of Josie’s engagement party taking place in the kitchen. When she walked in, Veronica looked triumphant, Jughead somewhat defeated, and Archie reasonably indifferent.

“Hi,” Betty said, seizing a momentary pause in their discussion.

Veronica turned to her and clapped gleefully. “You’re coming!”

There was no need to query what she was referring to, but Betty did anyway. “To what?”

“To the engagement party. And to my parents’ house.” Veronica explained, adopting the air of someone explaining something patiently to a vey small child.

Betty feigned a look of sudden comprehension. “Oh! Great.” She glanced at Jughead, who looked impossibly and uncharacteristically awkward. He clearly had nothing to say for himself. Once haunted by uncertainty and self-doubt by his lack of words, Betty now found her self feeling very irritated with him. All he’d had to do was broach this topic himself, and all number of positive developments could have eventuated.

“How are we getting there?” she queried of Veronica and Archie.

“My car,” Veronica advised, smiling sweetly at Jughead. “Except Jughead once accused me of ‘winning my license in a raffle’, so I think we’ll make him drive.”

Her fingers sketched quote marks around his words, and Betty saw Jughead reach up and pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Your driving is great, Veronica,” he said, trying to placate her. “I think that was just a prejudice I hadn’t properly examined.”

Betty looked at him witheringly. “Well,” she said. “Don’t examine too many of your prejudices too carefully, or there will soon be nothing left of you.”

Jughead looked taken aback at this.

Archie and Veronica smirked.

 

***

 

As it turned out, neither Veronica or Jughead ended up driving. Betty had suspected this of being an empty threat all along, but there was no way to be sure. Instead, she found herself seated next to Jughead in the back seat of Veronica’s Range Rover, with Archie at the wheel.

Betty did not know any other 24 year olds who had their own Range Rover and only used it once a year. But then, she didn’t really know anyone else like Veronica. Given this, she was a little unsure of what to expect of Veronica’s family. She knew her to be an only child, and that she did have a very close relationship with her parents. But beyond that, Veronica’s family was a mystery. Betty’s experience of unimaginable wealth was fairly limited, and she was slightly intimidated.

Betty got the impression Jughead was on his best behaviour for this journey, but this had not done much to appease her grudge. He could sit there quietly next to her in his hat and his denim jacket looking attractively calm and collected all he liked; if he wasn’t going to start using his words, she wasn’t about to start forgiving him.

Veronica kept turning around to look at them suspiciously. “You guys are very quiet,” she said eventually, her tone accusatory. “Surely you have some constructive criticism, Jughead. Something to say for yourself.”

Jughead choose not to acknowledge this. Betty smiled at Veronica, and gave her a dramatic, exaggerated shrug. “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”

Her tone was facetious, and Jughead shifted uncomfortably in the seat next to her. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, staring up at the roof of the car.

Veronica’s family lived only a few hours north, but the trip necessitated a stop along the way all the same. Archie pulled over at a passing lookout point, and they piled out of the car. It was pleasantly warm. They followed the walkway up a slight incline to a clearing which opened up to reveal rolling hills and undulating farmland. The four of them leaned against the lookout barrier, taking in the view before them in silence.

Veronica reached for her phone, fishing it out of her pocket and turning to take a photo of Betty. Betty was slightly embarrassed, but smiled anyway. Veronica peered closely at her phone to inspect the result. “Betty’s a cutie-pie,” she concluded. She gestured for the group to shuffle together, making sure she could fit all of them into her selfie.

“Jughead, you have to shuffle. I can’t see your face!”

Jughead stepped an infinitesimal distance to the right, careful to leave a respectable distance between himself and Betty.

Veronica was getting impatient. “Jughead!”

Betty recognised his hesitation, and knew he’d sensed her mood. She took pity on him, reaching out and grabbing his waist to pull him next to her so he was within the frame. He leaned in slightly, and Betty felt his hand rest gently on her back as Veronica snapped away. No more than two weeks ago, standing in such close proximity to him had set her heart a flutter, his touch leaving a trail of goose bumps over her skin. But now in its place was just empty sadness. A morose feeling of what could be if they would only let it. Betty squeezed his side slightly.

 _There’s still time_.

Veronica lowered her phone, and the four of them broke apart. Betty felt Jughead’s hand linger momentarily on her back. She glanced at him, her face expressionless, and saw him lost in thought. He blinked and let his hand fall, a small, hesitant smile crossing his lips.

“Archie!” Veronica admonished. “You ruined every single take!”

Both Jughead and Betty looked over at them in amusement. Veronica shook her head in frustration. “I’m just going to have to Instagram Betty instead. Let’s be real, she’s everyone’s favourite anyway.”

Betty felt herself blush slightly and scrunched up her face in embarrassment.

“She speak-eth the truth,” Jughead said simply, adjusting his hat.

Veronica didn’t look up from her phone, but instead raised her hand and high-fived Jughead.

The remainder of their car ride was somewhat more comfortable, and Betty felt the tension had subsided a little. Jughead and Veronica had a brief but animated conversation about Archie’s inability to take photos with his eyes open. Ever good-natured, Archie took it in his stride and let this criticism wash over him, his fingers drumming absent-mindedly on the steering wheel. Betty found herself thinking that this was what it was like to take a road trip with friends. To be going somewhere to do something together, without the somewhere or something really being that important.

The Lodges lived in a gated community. It took everything Betty had not to stare with her mouth agape as a security guard granted them access and they drove down a pristine avenue, lined either side with tall leafy trees. Jughead took this all in with the acceptance of someone who had seen it all before; Betty supposed he had likely already paid a visit at some stage in the last few years.

Betty need not have been intimidated. Hermione and Hiram Lodge were friendly and welcoming, greeting the four of them affectionately. Betty was struck by how much Veronica resembled her mother, from her dark hair and beautiful complexion, right down to her mannerisms. She remembered both Jughead and Archie referencing Archie’s slightly tense relationship with the Lodges, but there was certainly no sign of it now. People could be good at hiding things, though. At burying them below the surface and continuing on as normal. 

She of all people knew that. 

Betty was escorted through the Lodge’s home by an assistant to a palatial guest bedroom. The view from the room was that of greenery, and French doors opened up to an outdoor courtyard with a beautiful garden and a large swimming pool.

“Betty?”

Veronica was at her door. “Lunch and then a swim?”

Betty nodded, smiling.

 

***

 

It was just hard to stay aggrieved when you were staying in paradise. What with an elaborate lunch and an afternoon spent in the Lodge’s swimming pool, Betty felt her resentment of Jughead, and for that matter everything, subside almost completely. She didn’t want her disappointment in Jughead to ruin her afternoon or her evening. Obsessing over their non-descript interactions had not achieved anything thus far. As much as she wished things could be different between them, at least she was lying lazily in the sun in her bikini.

She had to be forcibly dragged away from the pool by Veronica and made to go get ready for the party. Veronica had kindly lent her another dress, this time also a soft pink but considerably shorter. It was cute. Betty was predictably nervous about the idea of spending the evening with a whole lot of people she didn’t know, and especially given her slightly strained relationship with Jughead. But at least she liked and was comfortable in her dress. That was always a good start.

She’d let her hair down from its usual bun, and was wearing it in soft messy waves. Veronica had squealed excitedly upon seeing her, which Betty took as a sign of approval. Veronica herself was dressed in a dark purple dress and looked as sophisticated as ever.

Betty bit her lip nervously as Veronica fussed around collecting the last of her things. “Veronica, I don’t know any of these people.”

Veronica patted her on the back slightly in passing. “You know us, it’s okay. They’re just old college friends. We hardly know them anymore either. I’m just going to be there to make a dramatic entrance.”

Betty laughed. “Okay.” She breathed out slowly.

They regrouped in the Lodge’s foyer, and Hermione immediately gushed over the four of them. It didn’t seem to matter how much you grew up. Parents were always thrilled to see their children dressed up. Or in this case, Betty found herself musing, their tenants.

Betty noticed immediately that Jughead wasn’t wearing his hat and was slightly startled by this. She remembered his dispute with Veronica about the hat before the Young Professionals’ Ball, and wondered if she might have something complimentary to say to him. But Veronica was very distracted because Archie wasn’t wearing a tie, and that turned out not to be a decision so much as that he had forgotten it. Veronica rolled her eyes and dragged him way, presumably to source one from her father’s closet.

Betty hadn’t realised it was to be such a formal event, but standing there in her pink cocktail dress with Jughead in his suit wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to her. He looked good. Unusually apprehensive, though, and Betty knew why. She smiled at him reassuringly, hoping he knew that there was still time for him to amend his ways. She always wanted him to know that.

Jughead cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Betty stared at him intently. “I kind of thought you didn’t want me to come,” she said, not really believing it but needing him to acknowledge that there few other things she could be expected to deduce from his behaviour

Jughead looked aggrieved by this, but didn’t seem to be able to find the words to explain why. Which was always interesting, for someone who seemed to have all of the words for everything.

“Why didn’t you ask me to come?” she she pressed on. “To the engagement party. Why did you wait for Veronica to tell me?”

“I didn’t know what you’d say,” he said quietly, surprising her, and failing to meet her eyes.

Betty wasn’t sure how to feel about this. She’d taken a lot of risks in recent months, and if it had taught her anything it was that sometimes you just had to give things a chance.

“You should have asked. I might have said yes.”

“Might?”

“Yeah,” Betty sighed. “But I guess now you’ll never know.”

She paused to let that resonate. It sounded harsher than she’d intended when the words were spoken out loud, and she thought she saw him flinch a little. He was just opening his mouth to say something else when Veronica re-entered the room.

“Okay,” she announced, Archie in tow. “Let’s go.”

Jughead closed his mouth abruptly, and reached up automatically to adjust his hat, only to find it wasn’t there.

Betty unlocked her phone hastily and pretended to scroll aimlessly, allowing Veronica to usher the two of them out the door.

 

***

 

For the second time that day, Betty found herself in awe of the immeasurable wealth before her. It was clear that Josie’s family were very well off, their home not too dissimilar from that of the Lodge’s. Betty learned that Josie had been a childhood and then college friend of Veronica’s, and was now engaged to someone Archie and Jughead went to law school with. Despite being some distance from either of the two places Betty now considered home, the world was starting to seem very small. Expensive, but small.

She felt she was coping reasonably well with the evening’s proceedings. She knew she’d been coming across as slightly awkward, but that was normal, and something that she was becoming better at accepting. In much the same way they had at the house warming party, Veronica, Archie and Jughead had gone to great lengths to ensure she was introduced to everyone and that she wasn’t left to her own devices.

All of Jughead’s charisma she’d first encountered back at the house warming party was back in full force. It was fascinating to watch. People flocked to him, and they all seemed know that Veronica, Archie and Jughead came as a packaged deal.

It was a frequent question. “How did you meet this lot, Betty?”

Betty looked at Jughead, amused, to let him know it was his task to explain this for the umpteenth time.

“Veronica found her on the internet.”

Betty smiled and rolled her eyes. This at least was true. He’d also told several other people over the course of the evening that they’d found her at a museum. Nobody ever seemed to question him, but everyone always seemed to laugh. But after several hours of this, Jughead turned to her wearily, having just wrapped up an extended sardonic commentary of how much he disliked his job. “I’m so tired of talking to people.”

Betty was surprised by this admission. “I didn’t think you ever got tired of talking to people.”

“Not true.” He smiled at her. “Can we go out side?”

“Uh huh.”

The air temperature had dropped as the sun went down, but it was still pleasantly mild. There were far fewer people outside, and the noise of chatter was significantly reduced. Jughead slumped into one of a pair of outdoor patio recliners. They were positioned at the edge of the courtyard, on the brink of where the light from inside met the darkness of the night. Betty dropped down onto the other rather more gracefully. She stretched out and crossed her arms and legs, staring up at the stars.

It was Betty that broke their silence. “I would have said yes. You didn’t need to be worried about that.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.”

Jughead sighed heavily. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the recliner, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. Betty could just make out his face in the dim light, his eyes staring intently at her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to come with me.” His voice was solemn, his expression earnest. “And I’m also sorry that Veronica subsequently forced you to do so,” he chuckled. “Hopefully it hasn’t been too bad, though.”

Betty felt her insides flutter a little. She smiled slightly. “It hasn’t.”

“Also-” his voice hitched a little. “I really like you too. And I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you. It's not my strong suit. But I'm... working on it...” He trailed off for a moment. “I, ah, I don’t know if that means too much any more. But it’s true. All of it.”

Betty felt her smile grow wider. She watched him sitting there next to her, hunched over, imploring her to believe him.

She did.

Seemingly not able to handle her silence, he collapsed back in the recliner dramatically, his hands gripping the sides.

Betty slipped off her own recliner, standing up and crossing the short distance to his. She perched on the edge, pushing him over slightly. Upon realising her intention, he scrambled slightly to make room for her. She lay down next to him, curling slightly into his side to fit into what was left of the small space. She felt one of his hands come to rest on his back, and pressed her face to his chest.

“It does,” she murmured. “It does mean something. It means everything.”

She could feel his heart beating, a resounding rhythmic pulse that could not be further removed from her own shaky reaction to his close proximity. It always surprised her, the effect he had on her. The spent so much time tiptoeing around each other, making wrong turns and saying the wrong words. And then when they got it right, Betty was overwhelmed by the possibility that maybe they could become something.

“I didn’t like being mad at you,” she added.

Jughead chuckled. “I didn’t like that either.” She felt his press his lips lightly to the top of her head, her eyes closing at his touch.

“This can’t be like it was,” Betty whispered. “I can’t keep holding your hand and kissing you when nobody’s looking. We have to tell Veronica and Archie.”

“I know.” Jughead paused. “Can we email them?”

Betty giggled against him. “No.”

“How about a PowerPoint presentation?”

She laughed again. “I mean, that would be better, I guess.” She lifted her head, angling it up towards him and meeting his eyes in the dark. There was an honesty in his expression that she knew meant he believed they had to tell them too.

He ducked down and caught her lips in his, kissing her softly and then pulling away. Betty wriggled further up at the break of contact, bringing her face level with his. She rolled over him until they were flush against each other, her hands pressed up against his chest, and kissed him back. He reacted immediately. His lips were hot against hers this time, his tongue gently dipping into her mouth. Betty allowed him to deepen the kiss, a blissful dizzy sensation washing over her. His hands roamed lightly over her back, eventually settling either side of her hips. The pads of his thumbs pressed through her dress against her hip bones.

Betty broke away to catch her breath, only for Jughead to splash a series of light kisses down her neck. She giggled slightly at the ticking sensation of his hair against the underside her chin.

“We have to go back inside,” she said quietly when his eyes meet hers again. Regrettable, but true.

Jughead's expression read both contentment and resignation. “I know.”

Betty rolled lightly off him and stood back up, brushing her hair back into place and adjusting her dress. Jughead watched her, resolutely not moving, an uncontrollable smile across his face.

She held out her hand. He took it, reluctantly, hauling himself up and standing next to her. Betty lead him back inside. She squeezed his hand as they approached the house and then dropped it.

Jughead stepped aside to allow her in first, following close behind her as they rejoined the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endless gratitude for your lovely comments. Truly! It's like getting a really great pep talk when I wake up the morning after updating.  
> I can't accurately express the positive impact of reader engagement on the writing process. Know that it keeps this story at the forefront of my mind when there are a million other things I am supposed to be doing. Also, please someone else tell me they're shocked HP and the Philsophers Stone is 20 years old today #millennials  
> Lots of love x


	15. Lodgings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

Betty awoke the next morning in a state of blissful contentment. The kind of contentment derived from immeasurable comfort, and a just little bit of luxury; 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, a plush down comforter and an assortment of pillows. Betty opened her eyes experimentally to discover a sliver of daylight streaming in through a gap in the blinds. She squeezed them shut again hastily to avoid the bright light. She rolled over onto her back and stretched a little, reaching either side of her for the outermost edges of the bed.

All of this empty space.

There had been a brief moment last night, a fleeting one, where Betty had thought Jughead was going to join her. That he was going to abandon all pretence of this roommate façade and slip quietly into the sheets next to her. But he didn’t. Betty wasn’t sure if his nerve had gotten the better of him, or whether he’d thought they’d made enough progress for one night. Either way, she was quietly disappointed.

He’d sat next to her for the car ride home from the party, his hand gently resting on leg, both of them blanketed in darkness. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to the feeling of him being right there, right next to her, and knowing that whatever this was, he was feeling it too. It was all nervous energy and possibility. He _liked_ her. She’d always known that, really, deep down in side. But he _told her_ he liked her. And it was the telling that made all the difference.

Betty opened her eyes again and sat up slowly, clutching the comforter to her. She slid out of bed, her feet hitting the plush carpet, and padded across to the blinds covering the French doors. She pulled them back and opened the doors. They creaked quietly as they swung open, and bright light flooded her room. Although still early, there was already warmth in the sunshine. The air was scented with the smell of freshly mown grass. Betty stood there in the doorway for a moment in her pyjama shorts and tank top, relishing the break of day and the dawn of new possibilities.

She could see the blinds were still closed in the rooms either side of hers. No one else had risen, but that didn’t necessarily mean they weren’t awake. Betty retreated back inside and crossed the room to her bedroom door, slipping out of the room, and closing it quietly behind her. She tiptoed down the hall, coming to a halt outside what she knew to be Jughead’s room. She lifted her hand, pausing a moment, and then knocked ever so slightly.

There was no answer.

This was reasonable, she supposed. It was the weekend after all, and they’d been out last night. In reality, if she was honest rather than hopeful, she hadn’t really expected there to be an answer.

Betty pushed the door open. The curtains were drawn rather more haphazardly than her own, and daylight was positively streaming in. She could easily make out the bed and the crumpled figure in it sleeping soundly. She closed the door quietly behind her and tiptoed across to Jughead’s bed. He was curled on his side, the sheets and comforter tucked low around his waist. Betty lay her hands flat on the edge of the bed and watched him a moment, the gentle rise and fall of his bare chest and the pure tranquillity in his face. She recognised that look, she’d woken up wearing it herself not less than 15 minutes ago. It was also a feeling, a feeling that felt floaty and weightless. If she could bottle it and carry it with her everywhere she went, her life might be very different.

Betty sat down on the edge of his bed and watched him for a moment. His face was squashed against the pillows, his lips pouting slightly. It was cute. A dark shock of hair was falling in his eyes and it fluttered slightly as he breathed in and out.

“Jughead,” she murmured.

He didn’t respond.

She reached out, placing a hand on his bare shoulder, and shook him gently.

Jughead stirred slightly, seemingly registering this movement. His eyelids fluttered but didn’t open. “What.” His voice was groggy with sleep.

Betty giggled, brushing her fingers lightly down his arm. “Good morning.”

He opened one eye and peered blearily over at her. “Oh. Its you,” he said, his voice cracking. He leaned up on one elbow rubbing his face, and then squinted at her with his eyes barely open. He rested his face in his hands a moment, and then pushed the linen back a little and patted the space beside him.

Betty swung her legs up onto the bed and slipped under the comforter. She slumped down into the pillows and wriggled a little to get comfortable, before rolling onto her side to face him. His eyes were closed again, and Betty wondered for a moment if he’d drifted back off to sleep.

“M’awake,” he croaked.

Betty smiled over at him, even though he couldn't see her. “Are you sure?”

He shuffled towards her slightly, slinking an am around her waist to pull her closer. Still smiling, Betty buried her face in his shoulder. Jughead pressed his lips lightly to her temple. “I am now,” he mumbled.

Betty reached up and wrapped her arms lazily around his neck. Still half asleep, he melted against her, all barriers broken. It was unfathomable to Betty that this was her life right now.

She combed her fingers lightly through his hair. “What are we doing today?” she murmured.

Jughead didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he sighed. “Just this,” he said contentedly. “Right here.”

Betty smiled against his shoulder. “I feel like our absence might be a bit conspicuous.”

Jughead gave a half laugh. “Well,” he said. “That’s one way to break the news to Veronica and Archie.”

“No,” she said firmly.

Jughead tickled her waist slightly, causing her to squirm against him in surprise. She just managing to supress a shriek of laughter. “Stop it,” she giggled.

He gave her a moment’s respite and then, seemingly unable to help himself, did it again. Betty really did shriek this time, clapping her hand over her mouth to silence it and sitting up quickly. “That is it,” she said, swatting him away. She scrambled up and clambered towards the edge of the bed, only to be foiled by Jughead reaching out and catching her around the waist to pull her back down to the mattress. Betty didn’t have the willpower to resist, instead allowing herself to collapse back into his arms.

She lay there, breathless, all pretence of struggle abandoned. His chest flush was against her back, his face buried in her neck.

“Don’t leave,” he mumbled into her.

“I won’t,” she murmured back. 

“You are much more ticklish than you initially appear.”

She wasn’t going to acknowledge that. It would be unlikely to work out in her favour.

Instead, Betty marvelled how it was that they lived together, and yet that very arrangement seemed to put so much space between them. Here, some many miles away from the routine and normality of Precinct, everything seemed different.

“Are you busy this week?” Jughead’s voice was still slightly muffled by her shoulder.

Betty frowned, wondering if she had heard him correctly. “What?”

He shifted his head a fraction so she could hear him. “I just thought, you know, maybe if you weren’t…” He seemed to be struggling. “I thought maybe we could...”

Jughead trailed off again. Betty could felt herself smiling, the reason for his apprehension become more apparent. “Hmm?” Betty questioned, somewhat enjoying his discomfort.

Jughead sighed against her. “You know what I’m saying.”

“I know,” Betty giggled. “But I want you to actually say it.”

“We could do something this week,” he said slowly. “Just the two of us.”

Betty felt her smile grow wider. “Jughead, are you asking me on a date?”

“Maybe,” came his muffled answer. As if there was any doubt.

This was new for her. It was one thing to be asked on a date, but quite another to be asked on a date by someone that made you feel like you could defy the laws of gravity. 

“You’re supposed to say something,” Jughead said, mock disgruntlement hiding what she knew to be a shadows of insecurity.

Betty wriggled around in his arms, turning around to face him. He opened his eyes, solemn and serious, and they met hers.

Betty nodded. “Of course we can.”

“Yeah?” Jughead’s smile was shy.

Betty nodded again. “But we have to tell Veronica and Archie,” she added, smiling back at him. “And we have to tell them today. Before we get back to Precinct. I can’t…we can’t keep doing this.”

His smile diminished rapidly. “Bleughh,” he said, clearly caught between resignation and distaste. “You had to bring that up,” Jughead huffed, his arms linking around her lower back. “I guess I better start preparing my power point presentation.”

Betty reached up and covered her eyes in despair. “No,” she said helplessly, unsure as to whether she should be taking this threat seriously. It did seem, rather frighteningly, like something he might do.

“Are you suggesting we just tell them?” Jughead asked, genuinely amazed by this as a concept. “In the car? On the way home? Like it’s NBD?”

She pulled her hand from her eyes and stared at him, unimpressed. “Are you talking in acronyms?”

Jughead shrugged. “You’re the one telling me this is no big deal.”

Betty ran her fingers through her hair exasperation. “It’s not!” she said laughing. “JFDI! Just fucking do it!”

Jughead recoiled slightly, looking taken aback.

“See,” Betty retorted. “It’s annoying. Don’t do it. We don’t talk in acronyms.”

“Okay, okay,” Jughead placated her. “And don’t worry. I’ll... I’ll sort it.”

She did worry. But there would be plenty of time for that later. For now, she needed to retreat discretely back to the safety of her own room to prevent such revelations coming to light earlier than anticipated. She leaned in and kissed him, pulling away quickly before he had a chance to trap her. Sitting back up, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and hopped down.

Betty was aware of his gaze following her as she crossed the room, and glanced back smiling to see him looking woebegone by her departure. “That was mean,” he grumbled, pouty and indignant.

Betty pressed an ear to the bedroom door, listening carefully to make sure the coast was clear. She turned and blew him a kiss, before opening the door and slipping out quietly.

 

***

 

The Lodges sent them on their way after serving the most elaborate brunch Betty had ever seen. Archie had been driving for the better part of an hour now. For the most part, their journey home had been unusually quiet, complemented only by a lazy soundtrack that made Betty feel happy and sad at the same time. She wondered if it was nostalgia, what she was feeling. Nostalgia for the present. Knowing that she would look back at this trip and miss it - before it was even over.

Betty almost couldn’t remember what life was like before she was friends with them. While she’d always had friends in the past, they were the guarded kind of friendships that came when you were always hiding behind yourself; afraid to show people who you really were. But for the first time, she could feel herself starting to let that go. Betty cast her mind back to how ever many months it had been since she'd first met the three of them. When all she could really see was hesitance and uncertainty. They were feelings that came with not really understanding that other people were in a similar situation to you.

Nothing particularly specific was had happened in her life since her move, but everything was unfolding around her, and it was new and novel and daunting. Somehow, when Betty was with them, she felt less daunted. Everything seemed more manageable. They made her feel like she could do anything, which was surely exactly what you needed in your twenties. She stopped worrying that she was killing time while time was killing her. That she was waiting for things to make sense. Things just seemed more meaningful and significant when you shared them with someone else. Betty wondered how it had taken her so long to work this out. She hadn’t even known she was looking for them, and yet here they were.

It was everything like serendipity.

“Veronica, do you have food?”

Veronica was clearly unimpressed by this question. “Jughead, we literally just at a week’s worth of breakfast in one sitting.”

Archie snickered. “Shame, bro.” 

“I might die.” Jughead summonsed as much melodrama as possible. “I have to eat every hour.”

Betty caught a glance of Veronica’s reflection in the wing mirror and saw her roll her eyes. Betty too failed to understand how he could have any appetite remaining at all after their efforts this morning.

“Will you miss me, Veronica?” he persisted.

"If you die?" Veronica shook her head. "No,” she said bluntly. “Not as much as I miss my vase.”

Betty tried to supress a laugh and ended up choking violently. Jughead reached over and patted her on the back as she gasped for air. She re-emerged from her coughing fit to find Veronica turned around in her seat, watching her carefully.

“I’m fine,” Betty gasped, holding her chest, red in the face.

Veronica looked over at Jughead, a knowing expression spreading over her face. “I think Betty will though,” she said pointedly. She stared at Jughead for a rather longer than was necessary, before turning back around in her seat and saying nothing further on the subject.

Betty sat motionless, suddenly very aware that if her face hadn’t already been a violent shade of red from her coughing fit, it certainly would have become so in this moment. She didn’t dare look at Jughead.

 _Veronica knew_.

How had she known? Were they really that obvious? Considering it had been barely been obvious to Betty herself, she couldn't fathom it. It was hardly the end of the world, but it was unnerving and unsettling and it threw everything off. It was much more difficult to broach a topic about which the other person already knew and had elected not to comment on. She risked a glance at Jughead, only to see him sitting there in complete ignorance, entirely unaware of what had just occurred. For someone usually so perceptive and in possession of such intellect, he really could be rather vacant.

“What are your plans for this week, Jughead?” Veronica asked, completely out of the blue.

 _She definitely knew_.

Jughead blinked once. “I’m going to work,” he answered. “In much the same way I did last week.”

Veronica nodded, and pressed on. “And what about in the evenings?”

Jughead looked bewildered by this question. “Some reason you suddenly need to know so badly?”

“It’s just a question,” Veronica said airily. “You of all people should have a good understanding of those.”

Betty watched Jughead stare at Veronica suspiciously. And then a look of recklessness spread over his face and he appeared to throw all caution to the wind.

“Betty and I are going on a date.”

Betty squirmed in her seat, staring intently out the window at the passing scenery, which was suddenly extremely interesting. Mesmerising, in fact.

Veronica laughed. “Ha ha,” she said sarcastically. “Very funny.”

Betty frowned. Perhaps Veronica didn’t know after all.

Jughead, too, was clearly thrown by this. It was not a reaction he appeared to have prepared for. He reached up and adjusted his hat.

“We’re going out,” he tried, again.

“Where?” Veronica now sounded for all the world like she didn’t care.

“ _Out_ , out,” Jughead emphasised pointedly, as if this vague clarification would somehow amend all doubt and reveal everything to all involved in the conversation.

Veronica shrugged. “Fine, don’t tell me. I didn’t really want to know anyway.”

Her tone was indifferent, and if Betty hadn’t caught Veronica’s insinuating comment and knowing glance moments earlier, Betty would have thought nothing of this apparent display of ignorance. But something was up.

Archie slowed down as they entered a small province, pulling over at a gas station. He and Veronica hopped out of the car.

“Food, bro?” Archie asked, for whom nothing was ever a big deal. Even proclamations of proposed dating. 

Jughead shook his head, apparently now too deep in thought for such frivolous things as eating.

Betty and Jughead watched the two of them fill Veronica’s car with gas and then walk into the gas station.

Jughead, looking mildly harassed, turned to look at Betty helplessly. He gesticulated wildly. “Is she being purposely obtuse?”

Betty was no longer sure. “Well,” she said uncertainly. “You know, you were purposely not being very… specific.”

Jughead looked greatly indignant. “Would you rather tell them?” he hissed again.

Betty shook her head quickly. “What? No!” she said hastily. “No, you’re doing fine.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They waited a while longer for Veronica and Archie to return. And then as Veronica climbed into the passenger seat in front of her, Betty made cautious eye contact with her.

Veronica winked.

 _She definitely knew_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too many words to write and not enough hours in the day - so sad. But thank you all for your patience, and also for the love you shared about the last chapter. It means everything to me.


	16. The Flowers and The Cheesecakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

Betty was a little tired from their travels over the weekend. It had made it that much more difficult to get out of bed that morning and face the beginning of another week at work. One coffee into the day, she was still struggling.

The coffee had been waiting for her at her usual seat at the breakfast bar. Jughead, as the only other person up, was clearly responsible for this. She appreciated it. He was up rather earlier than usual, and consequently he looked bleary eyed and a little dishevelled. He hadn’t put his hat on yet, and his hair was sticking up at all possible angles. It was cute. Betty watched him prepare his lunch as she finished her coffee, and felt particularly enamoured towards him.

They had both been sufficiently thrown off by Veronica’s behaviour during the car ride home yesterday, that the subject of their evolving relationship had not come up again – neither in private nor in the presence of their co-dwellers. Betty felt she and Jughead were in silent agreement that they would readdress the matter at a later date. And as such, life was continuing as normal. Life didn’t stop just because you and your friends had reached an impasse. When they’d arrived home, Betty still had to unpack, and make dinner, and get ready for another week of work. And then she had to get up and actually go to work – and for that matter actually do work when she got there. Even though she didn’t want to. This didn’t leave a huge amount of time for her to co-ordinate communications within their apartment at Precinct.

Betty could no longer even remember what it was that had seemed so daunting about telling Veronica and Archie in the first place. What she now realised, in retrospect, was that it was a classic example of building something up in your head so much that you lost sight of the bigger picture. Hindsight was a wonderful thing. She was well aware she was prone to this behaviour, but it was now clear to her that Jughead might be even more so. Trifling a matter though it may be, he was perhaps not the best influence in this respect.

It had all backfired on them though, because now Veronica was apparently going to do her very best to turn it into the big deal Betty had tried so very hard to avoid.

Jughead was just packing the last of his lunch into his bag when they heard the doorbell ring. He looked up at Betty, confused. “You expecting someone?”

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“Maybe it’s the courier. Veronica must have purchased something,” he sighed. “Woe is us.” He rolled his eyes as he sauntered out of the kitchen to answer the door.

Betty reverted to scrolling through her newsfeed, vaguely aware of the muffled voices being exchanged at the apartment entrance. The photos from the engagement party had been posted to Facebook, and Betty was pleasantly surprised to find that there were some nice ones of the four of them. It was true that Archie had his eyes closed in several. However from what she had gathered, that was a common occurrence. She supposed it made up for his startling lack of other character flaws;  _he_ wasn’t making life awkward. In fact, he appeared to have assimilated the information that Jughead and Betty were going on a date this week with remarkable indifference. Unlike Veronica, who had elected not to assimilate it at all.

“Betty.”

“Mmm?” Betty didn’t look up. “There’s some really lovely photos from the weekend,” she said absent-mindedly, still peering closely at her screen.

“Betty!”

This time she did look up. And much to her surprise, Jughead was standing in the middle of the kitchen holding a bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers.

“Who are those for?” she asked. If he hadn’t looked so alarmed, and hadn’t expressed such surprise at the sound of the doorbell earlier, she might almost have thought they were for her. But she genuinely didn’t know the answer to this.

Jughead crossed the kitchen to stand directly opposite her, and placed them down on the counter between the two of them. “Well,” he said, sounding very uncertain. “Apparently, they are for you.”

Betty raised her eyebrows. “That’s…vague. Who are they from?”

Jughead paused, looking utterly bewildered. “Apparently, they’re from me.”

There was an even longer pause.

Jughead cleared his throat. “I have to preface this by telling you that I wish I sent you these,” he said, now smiling slightly. “But I didn’t.”

“Yeah…I kind of got that," Betty said slowly, holding back a giggle. Nothing could have been more obvious. He looked endearingly perplexed, gazing down at the bouquet before them. “It’s okay,” she added, not wanting him to feel hugely inadequate about this odd turn of events. “I much prefer hydrangeas, anyway. They're my favourite.”

Jughead acknowledged this with a nod, and Betty almost thought she could see him filing the information away for another day. “These are nice, though, I suppose,” he added. And then, as an after thought, “What are they?"

“They’re lilies.” Betty was unimpressed. How could he not know this? “Can I see the card that came-”

“No,” Jughead interrupted much too quickly. He pulled the card hastily off the side of the bouquet, folded it up and stuffed it in his back pocket.

Betty frowned at him. “Why not?”

Jughead considered this for much longer than was necessary. “It has my real name on it,” he said simply, seeming to settle for the truth.

Betty stared at him in bemusement and wondered what on earth could be so terrible about his name that it rendered such secrecy necessary. “Okay. Fine.”

It wasn’t fine, but it did seem like a topic of conversation that could perhaps be more profitably discussed some other time. If nothing else, this key detail seemed to confirm for Betty who was responsible for the morning’s unusual development; there were surely very few people who knew such a highly classified piece of information.

“Does Veronica know your real name?”

Jughead knew what she was implying, she could tell. “Yes,” he said, through slightly gritted teeth. “Although, only because Archie is disloyal and not to be trusted and he can’t keep secrets for shit.”

Betty could tell Jughead wanted her to empathise with this injustice, but didn’t particularly care right now. There were other more pressing matters.

“I think Veronica sent them,” she said, glossing over Archie’s historic but apparently very significant betrayal. “The flowers,” she clarified.

“I think so too.” Jughead looked up at her and smiled, slightly defeated. “And I think we should just… not comment on it. And see what happens.”

Of course he thought that. He never wanted to talk about anything, ever. But in this instance it did seem like perhaps that very action had the potential to be greatly amusing. They were already caught in a tangled web of lies by omission. Betty wasn't sure what Veronica was expecting to come of her actions, but she had no doubt what transpired would be interesting. It always was with them.

If Veronica wanted to mess with them, so be it.  

 

***

 

Betty arrived home from work that evening to find Archie in the kitchen eating cereal. She felt certain if Veronica had witnessed this behaviour so close to dinner time, she would have had something to say about it. But Veronica wasn’t there. Nor, for that matter, was Jughead.

What was there, however, was another bouquet of flowers. They were impossible to miss. They were arranged next to the original cream coloured bouquet, to which they were almost identical, but for this time being a pretty shade of pink.

Betty could feel Archie staring at her, staring at them.

“Do you know what this is about?” he asked, sounding mildly amused. “I found those pink ones outside the apartment when I got home.”

Betty shook her head. “Who are they for?” she asked, even though she was fairly certain she already knew.

“Me!” Archie grinned.

This was not the answer Betty had been expecting. She stared at him blankly.

“Purportedly from Veronica,” he went on. “But I find that a little, uhh, unlikely. I wondered if someone left them there by mistake… but then I found the other lot inside so perhaps not. What are they?”

Betty couldn’t fathom how Archie hadn’t noticed the ‘other lot’ this morning when he got up. Men were so unobservant. It also bothered her somewhat that none of the men in her life seemed to be able to identify this very common, everyday flower. Although, judging by Jughead’s request for delivery of an identical bouquet, he had at least listened to her and taken on board her clarification.

“They’re lilies,” she said pointedly. Again.

“Huh,” said Archie. “Weird.”

Betty wasn’t sure how this made the situation any weirder than it already was. She also wasn’t sure why Jughead had thought the obvious next course of action was for _him_ to send flowers to Archie from Veronica. That didn’t seem like ‘seeing what happened’ to her. He was obviously completely incapable of leaving leave well enough alone. But she wasn’t about to get into that. “Yep,” she replied, settling for neutral agreement.

Archie shrugged, as if things like this happened all the time. He picked up his gym bag and and made to leave, high-fiving her as he passed on his way out. Just before disappearing down the hallway, he paused and turned back. “When’s your date with Jughead?”

He asked this as if it was also something that happened everyday. As if it was no big deal. Which was nice, because that was all Betty really wanted. She blushed, while simultaneously feeling a rush of gratitude towards him for acting a like a normal, fully functioning member of society - more than could be said of Jughead and Veronica right now.

“I’m not sure yet,” she said truthfully, still blushing. “But I’m glad _someone_ is willing to acknowledge it.” She smiled weakly at him.

He laughed and winked at her, which was oddly reassuring, and said nothing further of the matter. He waved in farewell, and shortly afterwards she heard the apartment door close behind him. Archie was Betty’s only proof that people _kind of_ cared when their friends or roommates started dating, but no one cared _that_ much.

Betty stood there listlessly, staring at the flowers and suspended in a state of confusion. No less than five minutes later, Betty heard the apartment door reopen, and this time Veronica appeared.

“Betty darling,” she exclaimed, dropping several bags to the floor. Betty saw her do a double take at the flowers that seemed to be multiplying over the breakfast bar. Veronica opened her mouth, and then closed it again, before looking at Betty somewhat uncertainly.

“You sent them to Archie,” Betty said casually, without being prompted.

If Veronica was surprised by this statement, she didn’t show it. “Is that so,” she said somewhat dryly. “Gosh. I’m just so nice.” She stared at the lilies a while longer as if trying to decide what to make of this. “Are you sure?” she asked, the first signs of disbelief creeping through.

Betty wasn’t sure of anything anymore, but she nodded anyway.

“Why?” she asked, sounding as bewildered as Betty felt.

Betty laughed slightly. She didn't have an answer. So instead she shrugged.

Veronica put her hands on her hips and surveyed the flowers begrudgingly, shaking her head. “I was just trying to break the fucking ice,” she said, more to herself than anyone. She looked over at Betty and smiled. It was genuine and warm, and with no trace of a smirk. In that moment, if nothing else, Betty felt perhaps that the ice had finally well and truly been broken.

Betty couldn’t help it. She smiled back.

 

***

 

The following morning, a cheesecake was delivered to Precinct. Betty and Veronica were eating their breakfast when the doorbell rang. Given Veronica was still in her pyjamas, Betty took it upon herself to answer the door.

The cheesecake was addressed to Betty, but the sender’s details were omitted. Betty brought it into the kitchen and set it down upon the counter and stared at Veronica in amusement, assuming her to be the perpetrator.

Veronica, however, looked genuinely confused. “Oh god. Who is that for?”

Betty felt a sense of deja vu. “Apparently, it’s for me,” she said, holding back a laugh.

“Who is it from?”

Betty gave her a withering look.

Veronica shook her head. “Betty, I didn’t send this.”

Betty frowned, all her presumptions now disassembled. “Well… it looks good,” she said, for want of something better to say. She packed two pieces of cheesecake to take to work with her lunch. One for her, and one for Katelyn.

But by Thursday evening, the situation was getting slightly out of control. Betty was finding everything rather less amusing - primarily because she was no longer really able to sit at the breakfast bar. The ultimate travesty. Well, she could, but space was very limited. It was now home to two more bouquets of flowers, which were also accompanied by the remnants of one artfully displayed selection of cupcakes, another cheesecake and and a bunch of helium balloons. All of which had been delivered over the course of the week, the recipients and alleged senders all varying. The only constant was that they'd all been delivered by the same courier driver, who was now their collective newly acquired best friend. 

It was outrageously impractical. All cooking preparation had had to be relegated to a separate area of the kitchen. Eating, for the most part, now took place on the L shaped couch. And Veronica appeared to be suffering from intense lily-induced allergies, but vehemently denied any such suggestion whenever the matter was brought up.

That said, the cheesecakes were proving to be spectacular, so it wasn’t all bad.

In much the same why Betty couldn’t remember why the topic of her and Jughead’s evolving relationship seemed like a difficult thing to broach, Betty wasn’t sure if Veronica and Jughead could even remember why they were organising successive anonymous gifts to be delivered to Precinct. Betty suspected Veronica's original intention of being to propel Jughead towards some kind of grand gesture and emotional admission. It was a nice try, but now it was just that neither of them seemed to be able to admit defeat.

It had taken Betty a few days, but she’d eventually realised that delivery of the edible items had actually been organised by Archie. That was really the only thing she could be certain of, because upon interrogation, he had admitted it. That in itself was a novelty these days.

He appeared to have intervened purely for his own amusement. “I just thought that was what we were doing this week,” he’d said nonchalantly, when Betty had sought him out and asked if he’d sent her the cheesecake. “Sending stuff. Although, I also really like this specific type of cheesecake, so it wasn’t entirely selfless.” And then he’d shrugged, because he was easy going and non phased and mellow about virtually everything. Even the fact that his best friend and his girlfriend were certifiably crazy.

Everything except cheesecake, that was. He definitely felt strongly about cheesecake. When Betty arrived home, he was eating his second helping since returning from work. Betty suspected this of not being an ideal meal to eat in advance of a gym session. That said, she herself had eaten 3 cupcakes for breakfast this morning. So who was she to judge?

Veronica had eaten cupcakes for breakfast too, but that was never going to stop her from judging anyone. “Archie, stop eating Betty’s cheesecake,” she said crossly.

Archie ignored her.

Veronica’s eyes were red and puffy from her allergic reaction to the lilies, and she looked to be struggling a little. She really was incredibly committed to the cause. Betty wondered if it would be on these grounds that she or Jughead eventually called a truce.

Jughead himself emerged from his room moments later. Upon finding everyone congregated in the kitchen, he nodded in acknowledgement. He surveyed the breakfast bar, looking somewhat impressed. “It’s incredibly festive in here,” he said, in place of greeting them.

And then, right on cue, the doorbell rang.

There was a collective sigh from Archie and Betty.

“I think you should get that, Jughead,” Veronica said crisply.

Betty saw Jughead gave Veronica a look that he tried to pass off as feigned politeness, but it was entirely convincing. He left the kitchen in a dignified manner off to get the door.

Betty, Veronica and Archie could just hear Jughead from the kitchen. “Hey man,” came his voice, sounding cheerful. “Back again?”

There was a muffled response, followed by an expression of gratitude from Jughead, and then they heard the door close. Jughead reappeared in the kitchen, this time holding a bunch of red roses.

“Well, aren't those are nice. If only we had _one more vase_ ,” Veronica chirped, smirking slightly. “Who are they for?”

The million dollar question.

Jughead looked down at them, seeming to consider his response very carefully. “They’re for Betty,” he said eventually, a look of determined resolve recognisable in his expression.

“I see,” said Veronica knowingly. “And who are they from?”

Jughead stared hard at her, and Betty knew he knew what Veronica wanted him to say. Instead, he lay the bunch gently down on the counter next to everything else. He looked Betty directly in the eye, and walked across the kitchen to her. He stopped right in front of her, and there was a sharp intake of breath from everyone in the room. Everyone except Jughead. Instead, Betty felt him reach out and cup her face in his hands, and then kiss her.

Betty felt a surge of something that combined embarrassment and happiness and relief and giddy joy all at once. She was vaguely aware of a triumphant cheer from Veronica and Archie in the background, and then Jughead pulled away and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.

Archie whistled. Somewhere behind Jughead, Betty heard Veronica’s voice.

“Guys!” she exclaimed, her voice delighted yet thick with emotion all at once. “I think I’m going to cry!”

Jughead let go of Betty and turned around, an arm still around her shoulders. “It’s the lilies,” he said, pointing at Veronica sternly. “You are _so_ allergic to the lilies! You brought this upon yourself!”

“I know! It’s both,” Veronica conceded, wiping her eyes. “But it was so worth it!” 

 

***

 

“Betty Cooper?”

Betty looked up from her desk. The office receptionist was standing behind her, holding a bunch of flowers, and Betty paused briefly to marvel at how familiar a sight this had become within the last week.

“These arrived for you,” the receptionist explained, popping them down on Betty’s desk. “Looks like you have an admirer, honey,” she smiled, winking and turning to leave.

Betty felt herself blushing, again. That seemed to be her automatic reaction to everything these days, and she was relieved Katelyn was not at her desk to further embarrass her. She turned the bouquet around slowly, and pulled off the card card attached to the side of the wrapping, knowing immediately that this was different from the myriad of other deliveries she’d received this week. She slipped the card out of the envelope.

Betty stared at the message, an uncontrollable smile spreading across her face. She looked back up at the bunch of flowers. They were hydrangeas; her  _favourite. S_ he had told him so, and he had remembered. 

_For Betty, love from Forsythe Pendleton Jones III x_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone for your patience and understanding - I know it's been a bit of a wait for this one! I've been a bit busy, as some of you know, so thank you also for the lovely encouraging messages I've received on Tumblr. If it weren't for your ongoing enthusiasm, this chapter would likely never have eventuated ❤️❤️ It's been really nice knowing there's still interest in this despite the long break. Lots of love, findingbetty X


	17. The First Date

“Katelyn, I’m so sorry. I can’t come this morning.”

Katelyn went silent on the other end of the line. And then she sighed. “Oh.”

Betty could hear the disappointment in her voice, and immediately felt guilty. “I am sorry, though. Really. I have a brunch.”

“No no, that’s okay,” Katelyn said quickly, sounding for all the world like it wasn’t okay. “Who are you brunching with?”

Betty swallowed, knowing honesty was the best policy, and bracing herself for dramatics. Everything was dramatic in Katelyn’s world. Especially this. She had been positively jubilant upon realising it was Jughead that had sent Betty flowers at work. Betty appreciated Katelyn’s enthusiasm and genuine interest in her happiness, but her over excitement about the whole thing did not sit well with Betty’s life long and seemingly inescapable dislike of being the centre of attention. Katelyn just didn’t get it. But then again, not many people did. Betty could hardly hold Katelyn accountable for this discomfort when she wasn’t willing to delve into why it made her so uncomfortable.

“Uhh… Jughead?” she said, unable to avoid the hesitation in her voice.

“Oh my god!”

Betty winced, and pulled the phone away from her ear at Katelyn’s sudden change in tone and volume. “Katelyn, it’s –“

“Oh my god!” Katelyn repeated, thrilled, but evidently incapable of saying anything else. “Oh my god!”

Betty closed her eyes, willing herself to see the humour in the situation. It was rare that Katelyn was lost for words. She normally had all the right words at the right time. But Katelyn had correctly interpreted that her long held belief Jughead would ask her out had finally eventuated, and it was clearly too much for her.

“Will you tell me all about it at work tomorrow?”

Betty could already tell there would be no getting out of this. “Uhh, I guess so,” she said slowly.

“Excellent.”

If nothing else, they hung up on a positive note. Katelyn’s disappointment at the cancellation of their regular Sunday morning plans had obviously paled in comparison to the revelation that Betty and Jughead were going to get brunch. So at least the guilt factor for Betty was minimised. She did already have reservations about sharing the details with Katelyn tomorrow, but that was nothing new. What was life without a bit of advance worry.

She only wished she knew.

It hadn’t exactly been Betty’s fault that this scheduling clash had arisen. Jughead had originally proposed brunch on Saturday morning when she’d spoken to him during her lunch break to thank him and acknowledge receipt of the hydrangeas. But then he hadn’t come home on time that evening. And when he finally did arrive back at Precinct, it was in a state of complete disarray, having spent all day trying but failing to settle a case for one of his clients.

He had been hugely apologetic in his request to please reschedule their brunch to Sunday morning instead, a consequence of his disastrous case being a requirement for him to work all of Saturday. Alarmed by his uncharacteristic fluster, Betty had assured Jughead it was absolutely fine, but had neglected to consider her schedule until just now.

Katelyn would cope, though, she was sure.

Betty was a little less sure about Jughead’s coping mechanisms. She had witnessed him work absurd hours in the past, and had come to recognise it as a by-product of his profession. But the more she thought about it, the more unreasonable it seemed. From what she’d heard from Archie of their time at law school, Jughead was brilliant. That was not hard to believe, either. And so the frequency with which his employment seemed to become all-consuming made little sense. It was clearly not due to any inefficiencies or inefficacies on Jughead’s part. The only other explanation was that there was simply too much being asked of him. She certainly didn’t know any other 25 year olds working such absurd hours.

All of which explained why he was running a little behind schedule on Sunday morning. And all of which made his lateness perfectly understandable to Betty. In any other situation, she might have found it inexcusable. Lateness was a recognised offence by her normal standards. She distinctly preferred to be five minutes early for being five minutes early. But in this instance, even as she sat waiting for him on the L shaped couch, she was more than willing to wait. In the great scheme of things, and in the heat scheme of their journey up until now, an extra half an hour was nothing.

Jughead appeared in the kitchen looking slightly breathless. Betty watched him finish buttoning his shirt, and then methodically roll up each of his sleeves. “Okay, Cooper,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Are you ready to go.”

It was a statement, not a question, but Betty nodded anyway. She smiled at him as she stood up.

Jughead adjusted his hat and made to leave the kitchen. His spacial awareness seemed to fail him for a moment, because he collided with the open cutlery draw as he passed it, catching the hem of his shirt on the drawer handle. There was an audible ripping sound as the fabric tore. He stopped and stared down at the offending cutlery draw, a slightly harassed expression on his face. He looked back up at Betty. “Sometimes bad things happen to good people,” he said flatly. “Why is the cutlery drawer open? Why!”

Betty, holding back a smile, did her best to look sympathetic. “I’m not sure,” she placated. “But it’s okay, you can get another one. We’ve got time.”

They really didn't, but she sat patiently back down on the couch anyway.

Jughead pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Okay,” he said, closing the cutlery drawer in a pointed manner. He undid some of the buttons he had finished doing up only moments before, and pulled the shirt over his head. He stuffed it unceremoniously into the trash. Betty watched, a little surprised, as he hurried shirtless over to the drying rack in the corner of the living area. He retrieved a clean sweater and pulled it on hastily, his back muscles flexing as he did so.

It was a little difficult to avert her gaze.

“Okay,” he said, yet again. “I feel like we should probably go.”

Jughead opened the apartment door for her, followed her out, then closed it behind them.

 

***

 

Brunch was definitely Betty’s favourite meal. There was something about that indistinct time between breakfast and lunch, where you were at liberty to eat whatever you liked. It was lazy and productive and leisurely at the same. You couldn’t have a bad day after brunch. For all the criticisms of millennials wasting their money on smashed avocado on toast, Betty struggled to imagine a brunch free world. Brunch just made everything better.

Jughead didn’t know that, though. And as such, Betty suspected there of being other reasons he had proposed it as their first date. For starters, it seemed like a natural progression for two people who already lived together and were already friends. There was also just something low key about it. Unless you were Katelyn, it was quite hard to make a big deal out of brunch. While Betty had told Jughead she was, _what was her term for it… inherently anxious?_ , she was yet to elaborate on that. Jughead was astute though, and she thought she could detect an active effort on his part to make this seem as relaxed as possible. For all his inability to properly broach the subject back at Veronica’s parents house, he was undoubtedly good at putting people at ease. It was just a part of who he was.

“I made a booking under Jones?”

The waitress frowned. “You’re 30 minutes late,” she responded, her tone a little more accosting than Betty thought necessary, given they still had empty tables.

“I know,” Jughead said matter-of-factly. “I tore my shirt on the cutlery draw.”

Betty stifled a laugh, and the waitress observed him with some disdain. She then led them to an outside table in a sunny courtyard, surrounded by an elaborate garden. There was already warmth in the morning sun, and the garden combined aesthetically pleasing mix of greenery and flowering plants.

Jughead seemed to observe this too. “Oh look, Betty, more flowers!”

Betty held back another laugh and the waitress gave him another look that clearly read that she thought he was crazy.

What was new.

Judgement aside, the waitress took their orders, and Betty finally found herself alone with Jughead. He seemed less flustered by now, if a little on edge still.

“Are you okay?” she began. It had to be asked.

Jughead sighed. “Yeah, sorry.” He reached up and adjusted his hat. “I think I might be a little... stwessed.”

How to admit being stressed and still be in denial about it, Betty thought to herself. _Stwessed._

“It’s alright. That is quite understandable.”

“I didn’t want to postpone this for another month or two, though.”

Betty smiled. “You’ve wanted to get brunch with me for months?”

“Oh, Betty,” he sighed. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“It’s good for you.”

Jughead’s brows drew together, and Betty saw the fleeting uncertainty in his expression that cropped up now and then when she surprised him. He was difficult to surprise, but the surest way to do it was a subtle, offhand dig at his normally untouchable ego.

“I like brunch. I probably would have said yes.”

He smiled at her. “Is that so.”

“Mhmm.”

It was of course much easier to understand the past than the present, but now that she looked back she felt certain that this was true. She couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment she’d realised she had a crush on him. The timeline was hazy. Part of that was her own inherent uncertainty that seemed to follow her around everywhere she went, but his confusing behaviour had not aided the matter. All he’d really needed to do was say something, anything, and they would likely have ended up here in this courtyard rather sooner.

But you never really knew why people did the things they did.

Presently, their coffees arrived.

“We’re kind of doing this backwards, aren’t we?” Betty asked, stirring her coffee.

Jughead laughed. “Do you not normally go on a first date after an extended period stealth of flirting and secretive make out sessions?”

Betty rolled her eyes, and then paused a moment before answering.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t do this very much. Dating.”

Jughead looked briefly surprised, again, but seemed to catch himself. “Well,” he said calmly. “For a novice you’re doing an excellent job.”

He seemed cautious, prepared to leave the topic alone if she wanted. But Betty had been on a role lately in her concentrated effort to admit things to other people, as well as to herself, and now didn’t seem the time to do away with that.

“I’m just not especially socially inclined, at times.”

This was vague, but it was honest. Uncomfortably so, almost. Or at least it would have been if had been someone other than Jughead sitting in front of her.

But he just nodded. “I think societal expectation tends to dictate that we all be outgoing and gregarious, so your ability acknowledge that is, in itself, a great asset.”

He had the most curious way of reassuring her without coming across as even slightly patronising. Or indeed, pretentious. He just thought about things carefully, omitted all personal judgement, and meant what he said. Consequently, what came next tumbled out of her without even having planned it.

“I also have an anxiety disorder. I’ve been doing much better within the last year, but it comes and goes.”

She realised just as she was saying this that he already knew. She hadn’t needed to tell him, but she was glad that she’d reached a point where she felt she could. He didn’t have to say anything for her to know that he was glad she’d voiced it too.

“That’s good to hear,” he said, smiling. She knew he was referring to the bit about doing better. “And also,” he added, “I’m honoured.”

Quite by accident, the topic of conversation had become unexpectedly heavy. But it was at that moment that their pancakes arrived. Jughead thanked the waitress especially cheerfully, and Betty couldn’t help but suspect this was intended to school her for her earlier judgemental disposition. An untold lesson; it cost nothing to be nice.

“This isn’t so very different from the time we spend together everyday,” Betty said, tucking into her pancakes.

He put his fork back down. “Is that a bad thing?”

His voice was genuine. That seriousness that took over when he asked a question and the answer mattered to him. Or for that matter, when anything mattered to him. It was such a stark contrast to his comedic take on most things. She was starting to recognise it more and more.

“No,” she said, smiling reassuringly. “It’s all I’ve ever really wanted.”

That was true. The concept of dating was nerve wracking for Betty, for the aforementioned reason. It involved all of the things which typically set her a little on edge. Small talk. Big talk. New people. Any and all kind of interest in her past, present and future. The expectation of knowing what to say, what to do. But this, this was comfortable. It wasn’t her very first first date, but it was the first one that she’d actually found herself enjoying.

“Do you have any plans after this?”

Her mouth was full, so Betty shook her head in response.

“Will you come for a walk with me?”

She nodded.

 

***

 

He could have more accurately asked if she would go for a walk with him and also six dogs. She would have said yes either way, but then at least she would have been forewarned. The element of surprise was amusing, though. So there was that.

She couldn’t tell if he’d planned this extension of their morning all along, or if the idea had only occurred to him mid pancakes. She had welcomed his suggestion of borrowing a dog for their walk from the local dog daycare. But it turned out he was a soft touch, though, because upon their arrival he had looked positively bereft at the idea of taking only one.

“But what about all these other dogs? And this nice labrador? They all want to go for a walk too. I can just tell.”

Betty could just tell this too, but was also a little more practically minded.

“It’s their right!” he exclaimed dramatically.

So she had agreed they should take one each. Then she had somehow been convinced that it would be plausible to take two each. And then when she wasn’t looking, he’d promised two other dogs they could come along as well. Before she knew it, she was personally responsible for a miniature poodle, a jack russel and the nice labrador.

It was equal parts stressful and entertaining. The labrador was disproportionately large and boisterous by comparison with her other charges. He had a proclivity to run in circles around her, and she was a little concerned it was only a matter of time before she tripped.

It was busy along the waterfront. It always was, but especially on a sunny Sunday morning. They were met with amused stares by passers by, and stopped on occasion by people of varying ages.

“They all belong to Betty,” Jughead said earnestly, in response to numerous questions about ownership. “She does a wonderful job.”

Betty smiled politely as strangers gushed over her newly acquired six dogs. She kind of wanted to hit Jughead, but she literally had her hands full.

They approached a quieter spot along the waterfront, and Jughead veered off in the direction of an empty park bench. He sat down, instructing his three dogs to do the same. For the most part, they obliged. Betty perched next to him, attempting to coerce the nice labrador into calming down. This proved to be easier said than done.

“Well this was ambitious, but I feel it has been a success,” he said, sounding pleased. He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back.

Betty was still struggling to get the labrador to relax. He was still nice, but he was also outrageously boisterous. It was struggle.

“Did you have a dog growing up?” she asked, curious as to whether this previously undisclosed appreciation for dogs had been a lifelong thing.

“For a bit, yeah.” He was quiet for a moment. “But we had to give him up because we moved around a lot.”

Betty nodded. She could never quite be sure where conversations about his past were going to go. But he seemed to be feeling verbose, because he went on without further prompting.

“I had an especially dysfunctional upbringing. It’s a miracle I circumvented becoming a fully fledged gang member and emerged as the high functioning supreme being that I am today.” He grinned at her. “I think they call it autodidacticism,” he added nonchalantly.

He was joking, but she didn’t think she’d heard anything more accurate. By the sounds of it, it was every part the miracle.

“Can I meet your sister one day? And your niece?”

He nodded. “That can be arranged.”

He had never asked her about her family, and she thought she knew why. There was no surer way to end up having to discuss your own family circumstances than by asking about someone else’s. In light of Jughead’s acknowledgement of his experiences growing up, she was a little reluctant to talk about her own family situation. She considered herself lucky to have been brought up in a supportive, comfortable environment. She was conscious that she had perhaps been subjected to insurmountable expectations, which still haunted her to this day, but in the great scheme of things she was very grateful.

She had just decided that this was a topic for another day, when the dulcet tones a singer and an accompanying guitar sounded from behind them. Betty and Jughead turned around to see busker a few metres away.

Betty felt the music could, at best, be described as inoffensive. She had very few more positive things to say about it. She suspected Jughead of harbouring similar feelings, because he was staring blankly straight in front of him, as though uncertain as to why this was happening to him.

The dogs, hitherto resting peacefully at their feet, had noticed too. The nice labrador stood back up almost immediately and barked loudly.

Betty reached out and patted him. “Ssshhh.”

He barked again, even more loudly, and this time the poodle joined in too and yapped frantically.

She glanced nervously at Jughead, only to find him trying to keep a straight face. She could see the corners of his mouth twitching. He shrugged. “They have a right to express their opinion.”

Betty was not so sure of this, and was further dismayed when the rugged looking collie Jughead was responsible joined in the chorus. The music stopped.

Betty closed her eyes, willing the dogs to stop too. But they didn’t.

“Excuse me!”

The busker had to shout to make herself heard over the chorus of dogs barking.

“Excuse me!” she repeated.

Betty threw a dirty look at Jughead, who was now openly laughing. And then she turned around.

The woman looked particularly aggrieved. It was understandable, really, and if Betty had been less opposed to her music, she might have felt bad. But she was almost relieved that it had stopped.

“I play here regularly!”

How unfortunate, Betty found herself thinking, but still not wanting to cause a scene. She glanced back at Jughead, whose expression very clearly showed that he wanted to see what would happen if they didn’t leave. That seemed a little unreasonable, though, and Betty couldn’t do it. She stood up, gesturing for Jughead to follow her. They reorganised their kennel of dogs, still in full chorus, and all of whom were now stupidly over excited, and headed back in the direction they’d come from.

Betty breathed a sigh of relief when there was sufficient distance between them and the busker, and when the dogs had calmed down. Walking next to her, Jughead bumped his hip gently against hers. She glanced up to find him looking down at her, his eyes twinkling.

He leaned down and pressed his lips lightly against her forehead. She closed briefly her eyes at his touch.

“Alright morning?”

The best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sending love as always x


	18. The More Things Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

Slowly but surely, summer was drawing to a close. Betty could feel it in the air, the subtle drop in temperature that was becoming more and more noticeable, day by day. The golden hues of Autumn were just around the corner. Everything was a little more crisp when she'd stepped out of Precinct, and it was lucky she'd brought another layer with her this morning for her walk to work. She liked to be prepared.

What she also liked was walking to work with Jughead. Every morning. Like it was just a regular part of her day. He’d had to adapt his morning rise time a little to match hers, but professed indifference to this adjustment. And she believed him.

She had not, however, believed him when he’d said he would just make up for it by leaving the office a little earlier. This was a barefaced lie, and both of them knew it. Over a week on from successfully settling his problematic case for his problematic client, his working hours continued to transcend all hours of daylight. He seemed to be in a constant state of panic, no matter how hard he tried to be nonchalant about it. Betty was conscious it was not her place to encroach on this, and that there was likely nothing that could be done to ameliorate the situation. He was surely acutely aware of his own circumstances and more than capable of dealing with them, but none of this did much to assuage her concern.

They walked in comfortable silence, navigating the crowds along the familiar route. While unlikely to match Jughead’s usual standards, Betty had a busy day ahead. She had several meetings to attend, and also had to pop out for an extended lunch break to attend an appointment. All in all it was going to be a matter of careful time management.

“Do you want to get dinner this evening?” she asked, knowing it was a slim chance, but hopeful anyway. Just in case. She needed something to look forward to.

He sighed, sounding unusually weary. “I would love to. But I can’t make any promises. It just depends entirely on how much I get done today.”

He looked apologetic, and Betty knew he felt guilty. A part of her felt guilty for evoking that feeling.

“No, it’s okay,” she assured him. “I understand. We’ll just… we can see how it goes.”

She hoped her tone was light, because she really did mean that. But he stopped, suddenly, reaching for Betty’s arm to bring her to a halt too. She turned, looking up to face him. He looked sleep deprived, world weary, and like he was carrying the weight of the legal system on his shoulders. All Betty wanted was to do was tell him to go home and go back to bed and rest.

“Look…” he began, adjusting his hat in what she interpreted as an indication of some level of nerves. “I know this isn’t ideal, this work situation. I’m painfully aware, actually. I just don’t have a huge amount of control over it right now. And so…” he trailed off looking uncertain. “I just need you to bear with me for a bit. It won’t last too much longer.”

Betty rather felt she had bearing with him for sometime, but oddly she was not particularly bothered by it. Perhaps this was what it was like to invest your concern in something other than yourself.

“I know,” she said, smiling in what she hoped was reassurance. “Like I said, I understand. It can wait.”

She regretted bringing dinner up.

She watched him a moment longer, and then reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoes to press her lips against his. His breath caught in surprise, and she felt him kiss her back, his empty hand settling on her waist and pulling her closer.

He smiled down at her as she pulled away. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

She untangled her arms from his neck, instead reaching for his hand and weaving her fingers between his. They resumed their journey, falling back into step alongside each other.

“Do you enjoy it? Your work?” She wasn’t sure whether to broach this subject, and accordingly her tone was hesitant. But she had to know whether this was a factor, whether he derived some level of enjoyment from the thing that consumed almost all of his waking hours. If he didn’t, his commitment, while commendable, was more difficult to understand.

If he sensed her heistation, he didn’t acknowledge it. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all for a moment.

“No,” came his eventual reply. “But it’s just work, you know? At least I’m somewhat good at it. And it keeps life comfortable.”

There was acceptance in his voice, rather than resentment. And for a moment Betty felt small and petty and helpless for having asked. His perspective lacked the entitlement possessed by many of her peers, and perhaps even herself. He was rational and pragmatic about the matter, because he knew what the alternative was. From what she’d gathered, his upbringing was such that he knew what it was like to struggle.

“Do you think anyone really likes their job?” he asked when she didn’t acknowledge his response. “Do _you_  like your job?”

The truthful answer was no, but she couldn’t tell him that without further exacerbating her feelings of entitlement.

“I think our generation is very idealistic,” she said, hoping to sound somewhat diplomatic. “We’re constantly told that we can do whatever we want. But that’s not entirely true. There are always some limitations. It sets people up for discontentment. That feeling of always looking for something better.” Betty paused. “I like the idea of my job. But I suppose I haven't really been there long enough to accurately gauge the reality of it.”

Betty found herself wondering how she had become embroiled in such a weighted topic of conversation at such an early hour, and then remembered it was her that brought the matter up. She should have known it would escalate.

“I always thought I’d be a writer.”

His statement was unprompted, a little out of the blue, and Betty looked at him in surprise.

Jughead shrugged. “But I wanted certainty, and an assured career path. An escape from the circumstances into which I was born. If you can write, the legal system is your friend.” He smiled in resignation. “It’s a trap though, Cooper.”

Betty wondered if he’d known that all along, or whether this realisation had grown on him. Either way, it was oddly depressing. You had to make a choice, she supposed - between loving your work, or working to be able to afford to love something else. He had chosen the latter, and yet it was consuming him and denying him a life beyond the four walls of his office. She found herself wondering for the first time what it was like for Jughead to observe Archie throw in this very career in exchange for something he truly enjoyed. She felt a little ill.

They stopped outside her building, and Betty knew it was time to wrap this up. She looked up at what she roughly imagined the 20th floor to be, the location of her office, and then looked back at him, her face screwed up in distaste.

“Do good work today, Betty,” he said lightly, grinning at her in spite of whatever it was that he was about to embark on himself. In spite of everything, really.

He leant forward down and kissed her temple. Because that was something they just seemed to do, now. Betty smiled as he backed away waving.

She took a deep breath, and walked determinedly inside.

 

***

 

“Elizabeth?”

Betty looked up in the direction she’d heard her name. It was her lunch break, and she’d had to rush here from the office to ensure she made it on time. Consequently, she was a little flustered. But she smiled at the woman in acknowledgement and stood up, collecting her belongings and hurrying across the waiting room. She followed the woman down the corridor, and stepped into a consultation room.

The woman was older than her previous therapist. She had long grey hair which was swept up onto the top of her head in a soft bun, with wispy tendrils falling lose. She had the kind of open, friendly face that set Betty somewhat at ease. A welcome development, given the circumstances.

“My name is Sarah,” she said, holding out her hand for Betty to shake, and gesturing for her to sit down in an empty chair.

“Nice to meet you,” Betty smiled politely.

The room was light and airy, and there was a view of the harbour from where Betty was seated. It was reassuring. Which was nice, because Sarah was looking at her expectantly.

“Uhh,” Betty said, wondering how to say what she needed to say, even though she didn’t want to say it.

Sarah smiled warmly. “Elizabeth, I understand you recently moved to the city, and until that time had been in treatment elsewhere?”

Betty nodded, relieved to have overcome this initial hurdle with reasonably little fanfare. “That’s right,” she said. “I asked for my file to be forwarded to you.”

Sarah brandished it in front of her. “Yes, thank you for that, dear. And so, I must ask, what is it that brings you in here today?”

Betty realised she was still clutching her bag tightly, and hastily dropped it to her feet, leaning back against the chair in what she hoped was some semblance of relaxed normalcy. Such irony.

“Uhh, well things are actually going quite well,” she began timidly. “But I thought I should check in to ensure they… stay that way?”

Sarah nodded slowly. “That is very proactive of you. I’m pleased.”

Was it proactive? Or was it over the top? Betty was never sure, but here she was, doing it anyway. She had put this off for some months now, reluctant to build a new relationship with someone other than her regular therapist, while also knowing that it had to be done eventually. It was for the best.

Sarah introduced herself, explaining a little about her background and her understanding of Betty’s previous treatment. Despite her initial reservations, Betty couldn’t help but warm to her. She was relaxed but thorough, and had a gentle nature that helped Betty’s feigned display of calm morph into something closer to genuine comfort.

“How have you found settling into a new city and developing a new support network? Did you know anyone before relocating?”

Betty shook her head. “I didn’t know anyone,” she admitted, knowing as she said it that must sound crazy to someone with access to her mental health records. “But I’ve been really lucky. I’ve made friends with my roommates, and met quite a few people through them and through work. I’ve been… surprised, I suppose, by how well everything has worked out so far.”

Sarah looked pleased. “That’s wonderful to hear. And what about that is surprising to you?”

Betty frowned, unsure, and gazed out at the harbour view from the consultation room. All of it was surprising to her. That fact that she’d been brave enough to take the risk in the first place. Having the nerve to try and befriend people who seemed more outgoing and engaging and interesting than her. Their unwavering acceptance of her, even when she faltered and some semblance of her reality started to slip through. That she was shy and nervous and introverted, and had somehow managed to break through that after all of this time. And Jughead, Jughead was _especially_ surprising to her.

“I’ve realised that other people aren’t really so very different from me,” she said eventually. “Regardless of what their circumstances are, everyone around me is trying hard, too. And everyone finds things difficult. I guess I’ve been figuring that out and just started to feel less… inadequate.”

“It is often our own perceived inadequacies that hold us back the most,” Sarah acknowledged. “How are your coping methods, in terms of dealing with your anxiety?”

This was the first sign that Sarah had reviewed her file in some detail in advance of their session. Betty smiled, pleased to be able to provide some tangible evidence of what she was saying. She turned her hands over in her lap, and flattened her palms. The scars remained, but they were old. A reminder of how far she had come. She held them in front of her to show Sarah, who smiled back at her.

Betty folded them back in her lap.

“And how do you find managing things on a day to day basis?”

This was interesting, because there were some days where she felt like she had everything under control, and others where her world felt rather like it was imploding. But it was due to external factors. It didn’t come from a place of internal trepidation; that urgent, deafening noise that told her everything was out of order. And gone was the feeling of stagnance, the feeling that life was happening to her and she just had to react to it in whatever way possible. Given that these past few months had been somewhat of a transitional period for her, perhaps she was managing things rather better than she’d realised.

“Before I came here, I was stuck. Life was just happening to me. I felt like nothing truly terrible was going to happen, but that maybe nothing really good was going to happen either.”

She wasn’t sure when it had happened, or even what she had done specifically for that feeling to start to lift. But it was clearing. And for the first time, when she looked ahead she could see something that closely, if not entirely, resembled hope.

“I don’t have that anymore,” she finished, no longer sure whether that answered the question, but content at least that it was honest. 

Sarah noted something down on the clipboard in front of her. “That is very encouraging. So with that in mind, how do you wish to proceed from here?”

She didn’t wish to proceed with this at all, really, if she thought about it. Suddenly It didn’t seem hugely necessary anymore. She wanted to go back to work and finish the project she’d been assigned, and then go home and cook dinner with her friends, and then maybe make out with Jughead. Who may or may not possibly be her boyfriend. It was hard to say.

All of that in itself felt very telling.

“I think I will just see how things go from here, and let you know if I want to come back.” She meant that. She was sure it would happen at some stage, and that she really would come back if she thought she needed to. She had laid the groundwork, and she had a strategy in place in case that scenario were to arise. Everyone needed a backup plan. But for now, everything was okay.

“I’m very glad you came in today, Elizabeth,” Sarah smiled, nodding again. “I know it’s not easy to begin this process again with someone new. But from what you’ve told me today, you are doing wonderfully. I’m excited for what lies ahead of you.”

She tucked Betty’s file away, and stood up to open the door to the consultation room.

Betty paused on the way out. “Thank you.”

She hoped Sarah could read her sincerity, and it felt like she could. Betty left the building with a warm sense of optimism, and the feeling that perhaps she’d overcome whatever it was she’d gone in there to address some weeks ago. It had taken her years to reach this point, but she had finally got there. And she’d done it all by herself.

She’d just needed someone to point it out to her.

 

***

 

As Betty had predicted, Jughead did not finish up at the office in time for them to get dinner together.

She wasn’t mad, and told him so because she didn’t want him to think it. But she remained quietly concerned, while still feeling it wasn’t her place to comment.

It wasn’t Veronica’s place to comment either, but she did so anyway.

“Does Jughead do anything except for work and walk around thinking about you?”

Betty blushed, watching as Veronica tossed the rest of her stir fry ingredients into the frying pan. “He’s just really busy at the moment.” She glossed over the reference of Jughead’s enamoured behaviour, but was admittedly secretly hopeful it was true. She certainly spent vast amounts to time walking around thinking about him.

Veronica gave her a skeptical look. “Nobody can possibly be that busy at work. People who are that busy should quit,” she said flatly. “It’s because he’s overly diligent and impossibly perfectionistic.”

These qualities at least explained his level of commitment in the absence of any real interest in his work. And they were certainly not bad qualities if exercised in measured amounts. But if ever there was someone who demonstrated the effects of taking them to the extreme, it was Jughead.

“I think he really likes you, Betty,” Veronica went on. “In fact, I know that. And Jughead doesn’t really like anyone. He’s very guarded.”

Betty smiled grimly. “Yeah. I kind of got that.”

“Are you sleeping with him?”

“What?” Betty spluttered, taken aback by Veronica’s forthrightness.

“I said are you sleeping with him,” she repeated automatically, as though Betty merely hadn’t heard. All recognition of the forthrightness of this question was lost on her.

Betty narrowed her eyes, somewhat amused that this was a conversation she was even having. “No,” she said finally, largely because she wasn’t the lawyer and she didn’t have the immediate means to deflect the question.

What even was privacy when you lived with Veronica Lodge.

To her credit, Veronica did not comment on Betty’s response. She just shrugged. Betty watched her continue with dinner preparations.

“How did you know about us?” Betty had put this question off for long enough, and now that her initial panic had subsided and everything was out in the open, her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

Veronica grinned. “I just knew. It was like a gradual realisation. Jughead started walking around looking more and more like the fucking heart-eye emoji and there was just no other explanation.”

Betty buried her face in her hands, unable to feel anything but embarrassment at the idea of Veronica observing this.

When she looked up, Veronica winked at her. “It’s okay, it was totally his fault. You were rather more discrete. In fact, you’re kind of hard to read.”

That was unashamedly true, but Betty was still working on being unashamed of it. Although, judging by today, she had at least finally made some progress in being able to read herself.

Archie arrived home from the gym just as Veronica finished preparing dinner. The three of them ate largely in silence, all seemingly deep in thought, unable to yet dismiss the events of their respective days. This silence was a more frequent occurrence in Jughead’s absence. His inability to let anything go played a prominent role in the typical dynamic of their evenings.

Veronica and Archie left shortly after dinner to attend a Lodge Industries networking function. Archie looked deeply unimpressed at the prospect of this, but Betty had no doubt he would play the part when he got there.

“Be good,” Veronica had instructed, blowing her a kiss and waving as they left.

There wasn’t much on TV that evening, and try as she might, Betty could not for the life her find the remote required to switch on Netflix. Instead, she found herself curled up on the L shaped couch, dozing on and off. It was surprisingly comfortable, and Betty eventually rolled over and drifted off to sleep entirely.

She was awoken sometime later by the sound of the apartment door. Reluctant to open her eyes, she lay there a moment, unmoving, trying to figure out who was home. The lack of conversation seemed to indicate it was Jughead.

She felt a blanket being tucked around her, and realised he thought she was still asleep.

“Hi,” she croaked, blinking blearily.

She couldn’t really see him, but she could hear him. “It’s late,” he said gently, just a hint of admonishment recognisable in his voice. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

Because she made a poor decision, that was why. But at least she was now here with him. She wanted to ask why he was home so late, but she already knew the answer. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. He finally came into view and she blinked a few times, her eyes still adjusting to the light.

When she didn’t reply, he tried something else. “Did you have a good day?”

Betty nodded, smiling at him. She did have a good day. She would perhaps look back on it and realise just how very good it was.

But he looked tired. His features softened as they made eye contact and Betty felt her stomach swoop slightly. There were butterflies, always so many butterflies, their wings tickling her insides just enough to signify apprehension, but also anticipation, and something else she could never quite define but never wanted to go away.

He perched on the edge of the couch next to where she sat, reaching out to push her hair out of her face with his fingers. “Hey,” he murmured, his eyes trained on her lips. Betty was still sleepy, but she knew what was coming. She always did, and that was perhaps what made it all the better. When his lips touched hers Betty felt a surge of something that felt everything like want, and leaned in to deepen the kiss. Everything was slow and languid, and she couldn’t really direct her focus. All she knew was that when he pulled away, her bottom lip caught between his teeth, she didn’t want him to stop.

She lay back down on the couch, this time catching his arm and pulling him down with her. He shifted gingerly over her, careful not to crush her with his body weight, eventually settling alongside her, pressed close, his lips finding hers again. Betty felt his hands slip under the hem of her shirt, and his fingertips brushed lightly over her abdomen, inching slowly higher. She hummed quietly against his mouth as the pads of his thumbs reached the underwire of her bra, tracing lightly beneath the wire and then dipping under the fabric.

She broke their kiss at the sensation, a little short of breath, and opened her eyes to look at him.

“Are we dating?” she asked abruptly. It was funny that that was a verb.

He still looked tired, but he also looked content. He smiled, his eyes heavy. “I think so. But the real question is why are we doing this on the fucking L shaped couch? We hate this couch.”

Betty giggled. “ _You_ hate the couch," she corrected him. "Those were your words, not mine,”

He had a point though. His hand was still beneath her shirt, beneath her bra, but now that they’d stopped and moved on to talking about the furniture in the apartment that they lived in with their friends and in which they went about their everyday lives, it seemed almost weird. Jughead clearly thought so too, because he promptly sat up and let go of her.

“We should do this again sometime,” he said lightheartedly, offering her a hand to haul her up.

Betty wouldn't say no to that. 

She couldn’t quite explain why the moment had passed just now, but she could feel it. She knew he could too.

And she needed sleep. They both did.

It was with a hint of regret that she retreated to her own room, alone. But she did it anyway, able only to hope that this was only the beginning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit heavier this time sorry, but it's not all fun and games and cheesecakes. Thank you to all the honeys for the lovely comments and just general uplifting because I've needed a bit of that lately. Big love x


	19. Admissions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

“You never used to do this for us before Betty moved in.”

Veronica glared at Archie, but ignored his quip, instead opening the oven door and removing another tray of cookies with a flourish. She rested them on the counter, peering over them to inspect her handiwork.

"Is it because you like Betty more than Jughead and me?"

"Yes."

Regardless of whether this was true, Betty wasn’t sure it sounded like an argument she wanted to become embroiled in. She would never have picked Veronica to be quite as domesticated as she was. Yet here they were, home on a Saturday evening, eagerly awaiting her freshly prepared baked goods. People were full of surprises.

Some things, of course, were not so surprising. Nobody had been even remotely surprised this morning when Jughead departed for another day of work. Somewhat disconcertingly, when Betty was trying to make plans for her weekend she’d all but assumed this would be the case. She wasn’t even especially surprised that dinner time had passed, and that he was still at the office. It was beyond anyone's control. 

Veronica retrieved two plates from a drawer and deposited a small pile of cookies on each one. She slid the plates across the counter to where Archie and Betty were seated at the breakfast bar.

“Yusss!” Archie punched the air triumphantly. “Can I have a glass of milk too?”

Veronica threw a particularly withering look in his direction. “First you doubt my intentions, and then you make further demands of me.” But she retreated to the fridge, and obligingly produced two glasses of milk, setting them next to the plates of cookies. The ultimate combination.

“Thanks, Veronica,” Betty smiled.

Veronica blew her a kiss across the kitchen in response, before turning her attention back to her baking production line. The volume of cookies being produced was so vast that Betty had assumed Veronica had a particular occasion in mind. However upon questioning, it had been revealed there was in fact no reason. The volume of cookies produced seemed only to be a reflection of Veronica’s inability to do anything by halves. Betty rather felt that there would be cookies available at Precinct for several weeks. They should probably invite all their friends to move in and start the revolution.

“We are... _so_ cool,” Archie said absent-mindedly, polishing off the last of his glass of milk with a seeming newfound zest for Saturday night. “Where’s Jughead? I miss him.”

Veronica turned around. “You know, I never thought I would feel like this, but I almost do too.” She stared at Betty expectantly.

Betty finished her mouthful of cookie. “I mean… I think he’s still at work. Or at least, that’s what he keeps telling me.”

“I would be more suspicious if he said he was somewhere other than work.” Archie kind of laughed, but Betty could tell he didn’t find it funny. Neither did she.

“How long do these ridiculous working stints normally last?” Betty asked him, uncertain whether she actually wanted to know the answer.

Archie shrugged. “Couple of weeks,” he said vaguely. He paused before continuing. “But then, he’s never had anyone with any influence tell him to check himself.”

Betty could feel Archie watching her, but she didn’t have it in her to look up and meet his eyes. Instead, she swirled her glass of milk in circles. After a moment, she felt him look away. She was unconvinced that she had any particular influence over this issue, but Archie seemed to regard it as her responsibility. Great.

She felt like she was being set up to fail.

Archie got up and put his plate and his glass in the dishwasher. “I’m going to the gym,” he announced, as if people ate milk and cookies and then went to the gym every Saturday night.

Veronica and Betty stared at him blankly.

“You are the _least_ cool person I’ve ever met,” Veronica turned away dismissively.

Archie knew he was being insulted, but didn’t particularly care. An artform, Betty thought to herself. “Are you coming, Betty?”

“What? _No_ , Archie. No, I’m not,” she said in disblief. “Sorry,” she added. Not that she felt it was needed.

Archie shook his head in mock disapproval. He paused on his way out of the kitchen. “Where did this new plant come from?”

Veronica didn’t miss a beat. “Betty bought it,” she said, as though Betty were an entirely different person. The one who bought new potted plants every week.

Betty could tell Archie wasn’t buying this, but he looked up at her anyway. “Nice.” He traipsed off down the hallway.

Veronica dropped a large container now full of cookies on the kitchen counter in a mark of finality. “We both need new boyfriends,” she said flatly.

Betty felt the term ‘boyfriend’ was a bit of a stretch in her case. She pressed her lips together and looked at Veronica slightly helplessly.

“Betty, is everything okay?”

Betty titled her head side from side to side in thought. “I mean…” She stopped, not knowing at all what she meant. “I don’t really know anymore. And I am so tired of not knowing.”

Was that dramatic, or was it honest?

There was a look on Veronica’s face that read understanding and confusion all at once. “If you’re talking about Jughead, what I will say is that I feel like you are having to try way to hard to make this work. It shouldn’t be this difficult.”

Betty knew it shouldn’t be this difficult. What she didn’t know was how it had all become this difficult. It was such a simple concept, the part where she liked him, and he liked her and then they got together and just moved on with their lives.

She couldn’t really understand why the reality was not that simple.

Veronica was still looking at her, waiting for a response. When Betty didn’t give her one, she continued. “I feel like you are the one putting all the effort in here. From where I’m standing, you’re just clambering over hurdle after hurdle while he wafts around in a dream, holding on to you but not really telling you why, and then going back to work because he can’t not. It’s not very healthy.”

Her heart would have sunk, but it was already as low as it could get. Betty could feel her eyes prickling with tears. She chewed on her lower lip, doing all she could to hold them back. But it was already too late. She leaned down and buried her face in her arms. She felt Veronica touch her shoulder, and then reach with her free hand for one of Betty’s and squeeze it tightly.

“I know,” Betty responded eventually, her voice muffled by her arms. She looked back up, wiping under her eyes with the corner of her sleeve. “But I also know what it’s like to need help and not be able to ask. To not be able to admit defeat.”

The concern in Veronica’s expression softened. “You’re a good person, Betty.” Her voice was sincere.

Betty was never sure of that, and it was odd to have someone say it out loud. Did waiting patiently for someone to get their shit together make you a good person? Or did it just make you a pushover. The kind of person that had lost sight of what they were actually looking for in the first place.

“I’m trying,” she said weakly. At least she was fucking consistent. 

Veronica was watching her.

“I guess we all are.”

 

***

 

Betty was suspended somewhere between wakefulness and sleep. That hazy bracket of time where you couldn’t quite be sure whether you were conscious or dreaming.

“Betty.”

She opened her eyes and saw a slither of light beaming in through her door, which was slightly ajar. She was so sure she remembered shutting that.

“Are you awake?”

She propped herself up on her elbow, now a little more alert. “Well, I am now,” she said dryly.

The door opened a little more, and in the light from the hall she could make out Jughead standing in the doorway.

“Are you gonna come in, or…?”

She saw him step into the room, and push the door shut behind him. It was pitch black.

She could hear him shuffling around in the dark. “I can’t see for shit,” he grumbled, as if that was in some way surprising. 

There was a muffled crash and he smacked into the end of her bed. “Fuck.”

Betty leaned over and switched the bedside light on, and the offending bedend, Jughead and the greater room itself all came into view.

“Oh, hi.” He looked a little vexed. “Can I ask why everyone has gone to bed when it’s only 9pm on a Saturday night?”

Betty raised her eyebrows at him, a little surprised at his audacity given his whereabouts today. Given everything, really. “It’s because we’re all extremely cool.”

He frowned at her sarcasm. “Figures.”

“Can I ask why you’ve woken me up?”

Betty was surprised by how short she sounded, and she thought she could detect some surprise in his expression too. But she realised as she said it that it had everything to do with Veronica’s perspective earlier in the evening. Here he was, having been absent for weeks, and having chosen this inopportune time to wake her up. She was tired of everything. Tired of games that weren’t even games, tired of waiting, and tired of uncertainty. Quite simply, he’d better have something to say for himself. And it had better not be via PowerPoint presentation.

If he were anyone else, Betty might have suspected his initial silence of indicating he was unsure of himself. But Jughead was hardly ever unsure of himself. Not really.

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

There it was. Betty sat up sighing. She slumped back against the bed head. She reached over and patted the empty space beside her.

He didn’t move though, instead leaning back against her closet, as if apprehensive of what was to come.

“I settled my other case today.”

Betty blinked several times, unsure if she’d heard him correctly. “What?”

He gave her a look that seemed to indicate he thought she hadn’t been listening. “I said, I settled my case. It’s all done.”

Her uncertainty morphed into something that more closely resembled surprised relief. “Really?” she whispered.

He nodded. “No more 80 hour weeks. And also,” he said, visibly swallowing, “I applied for another job. And I have an interview next week.”

She stared at him, allowing all of this to wash over her, and surprised to find she was suddenly pleased that he’d woken her up. She could feel herself smiling, the kind of uncontrollable smile that spread over your entire face and made you realise it was possible to be genuinely happy for someone other than yourself.

_“Really?”_

He grinned back. “You keep saying that like you don’t believe me.”

“I do. I do believe you.”

Because she did. Even though she was struggling to believe it had happened.

“Also, I made an Instagram account today while I was trying to think of another way to tell my client to fuck off.” He offered this as a casual afterthought, but Betty had been privy to this tactic before. She knew it to be a subtle seque. All this talking about Real Things had to be mentally draining for him. “I currently have zero followers, so that feels great,” he persisted.

She still couldn’t help but smile. "Veronica made cookies," she said, seeing as they were talking about things that were irrelevant. She hoped this would indicate she was not going to actually allow this seque to happen. 

He stood there, still leaning against her closet, and Betty realised that now he really was unsure what to do. He looked uncertain, like he wanted to address something that had happened a while ago, but felt like it was too long ago to get the moment back. Like he knew that she’d been waiting for him to figure out what everyone else already knew. That something needed to change before they could move forward.

It wasn’t too late, though. And this was surely the last hurdle they could possibly encounter, be it real or imagined.

Betty pushed the covers back and hopped out of bed, walking around to where he was leaning against the closet. He pushed his weight off it as Betty came over to stand in front of him, and looked down at her.

There were impossibly dark circles under his eyes, and he looked exhausted. Accordingly, she told him so.

“You look exhausted.”

He gave her a half smile, and Betty suspected that of being all he was able to muster. His eyes were a little glassy. She couldn’t tell whether it was tiredness, or whether somewhere behind those tall walls and amusing quirks he was so apt at using to fend everyone off, there were real tears. It was conceivable that it was a little of both.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “For everything, really. The way I’ve acted, and the way I’ve treated you. For not being able to say so when I had something to tell you - that I liked you. I should have figured it all out sooner. I should have--”

Betty stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his middle, burying her face into his shoulder. She felt him hug her back, pulling her against his chest. The tension in his upper body seemed gradually to subside. She'd heard his apologies before, but this time it felt like a break through. Betty stood there lazily in his arms, nothing else to say, because he knew it all already.

And then when she pulled away, she reached for his hand and tugged him back in the direction of her bed. She hopped back in. Betty pushed the covers back for him and adjusted the pillows while he slipped off his shoes, some of his outer layers and his beanie. He collapsed onto the bed in just his boxers and t shirt, pulling the covers up and burrowing under them.

Betty scooted over and closed the empty space between them. He gathered her in his arms. She could feel his breath tickling her neck.

“I did it because of you. It was for me, but it was because of you.”

His voice was slightly muffled, whether by her or the pillow she wasn’t sure. She didn’t reply.

“You know that voice in your head,” he continued sleepily. “The one that grows louder and louder. The one that tells you that that this isn’t how things are supposed to be. I used to be so scared to listen to it. And then eventually it started to sound like you.”

Betty couldn’t say anything for a moment, so she squeezed him more tightly instead.

“I don’t think anybody ever lost their way by slowing down,” she said eventually.

He gave a sleepy mumble of acknowledgement. “I know that, now.”

His breathing shallowed, and Betty knew that he was nearly asleep. She nudged her ankle between his, engtangling their legs. Betty closed her eyes and drifted off too, her hand resting just under the hem of his t shirt against his lower back.

 

***

 

Betty woke up with Jughead’s arm wound tightly around her waist, his chest was flush against hers. She knew he was already awake because his fingers were tracing gentle circles over the exposed skin at her waist. She was comfy and cozy. The kind of content felt only at this hour of the morning, when she was still sleepy and everything was still dreamy and she hadn’t yet registered reality.

She wriggled slightly in his arms, and felt his entire body tense. His fingers stopped mid circle.

She opened her eyes and found his face inches from hers, half of it visible, the other half smushed into her pillow.

He shifted slightly, and the rest of his face came into view. Betty bypassed all form of verbal greeting, and leaned forward and kissed his mouth lazily. His arms adjusted slightly, pulling her closer, and he sighed into her mouth as he kissed her back.

Betty reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, pressing against him. He untangled his arms from her waist and slipped his hands beneath her tank top. They came to rest either side of her ribcage, the pads of his thumbs brushing gently back and forth as his kisses deepened. Betty slipped her tongue in his mouth, and heard his sharp intake of breath.

There was something about kissing him that made everything feel almost otherworldly. The tickle of butterflies in her stomach, and that weightless feeling that made her lose all ability to focus on anything but him. One of his hands moved further up over the swell of her breast, and Betty let out an almost inaudible whimper.

Jughead kissed her once more and then pulled away. When she opened her eyes, he was staring intently at her.

“Morning, Betts,” he said, his voice cracking through each syllable as he broke their silence.

Betty didn’t say anything, and instead leaned over and kissed him again in response.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be?”

She shook her head.

“Well, that’s very convenient. Neither do I.”

Betty rolled her eyes, but smiled. “How novel.”

Jughead tried to frown at the dryness in her voice, but it got caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. The effect was oddly endearing.

She swallowed. “My heart is beating so fast right now.”

“Is that...due to factors extraneous to the current circumstances?” he asked, looking mildly concerned and briefly glancing around the room.

“No.” She let out a quiet laugh. “It’s just you. It’s a good thing.”

He leaned in and caught her lips in his again, leaving her borderline dizzy, and something innate compelled Betty to press closer against him.

He rested his forehead against hers, breaking their kiss again, slightly short of breath.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

She wasn't going to want him to stop, but she nodded in acknowledgement of what he’d said.

He sat up a bit, and pulled his t-shirt up over his head. Betty watched his muscles flex as he tossed it over the side bed. And then his fingers brushed the hem of her tank top, and he lifted that gently over her head too.

His hands cradled the small of her back and he gently flipped her over onto the mattress, hovering over her and settling between her legs. His lips trailed down her neck and across her collarbone. Betty closed her eyes, lost in the sensation of him against her bare skin, and found herself wondering yet again how it had taken them so long to reach this point.

She could feel him pressed between her legs, and rolled her hips up against him.

“Are you sure?” he asked, again, his breath warm against her neck.

“Yes,” she mumbled softly.

The surest she had been in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is fast approaching! Lots of love, as always <3


	20. Weighted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> www.findingbetty.tumblr.com

There was no one that could be more relied upon to unexpectedly commandeer your Sunday morning than Veronica. 

In the time they’d been waiting for Veronica herself to get ready, Archie and Jughead had consumed vast numbers of the cookies she’d left sitting on the kitchen counter the evening before.

“We’re about to go get brunch,” Betty said weakly in protest, watching them in disbelief.

Jughead looked sceptical. “Are we, though? Because I feel like Veronica could be having second thoughts.”

Compulsory brunch had been Veronica’s idea in the first place; most things were Veronica's idea, if Betty was being honest. The prospect of brunch was always a welcome one, although on this particular morning it was not exactly what Betty had planned. Less welcome was the prolonged waiting period between this announcement and their actual departure.

But you couldn’t have everything.

That said, Betty was starting to feel lot like she had _almost_ everything, though. It was funny how life had started to fall into place so quickly when she’d first moved into Precinct, only for it to subsequently reach a standstill. The kind of impasse could only be resolved over time. Most of what she had now, she’d had sitting right in front of her since that very first week she moved into Precinct. What she’d added over the recent months was perspective, a sense of hope and some hard earned, but well placed trust. Both in herself, and others.

Veronica made a sudden appearance in the kitchen, her arrival unexpected after all this time. Both Archie and Jughead froze, looking appropriately guilty.

Veronica looked supremely unimpressed. “I specifically told you not to eat those ones,” she said crossly. “I said you could eat the burnt ones!”

Jughead’s expression morphed into one of sincerity. “You're here!” he greeted her, one hand over his heart in mock earnestness. 

Veronica did away will all admonishment and surveyed him doubtfully. “What do _you_ want?”

Archie snickered.

Jughead dropped his hand, all pretence of sincerity lost. “I want to go! You said we had to go to breakfast!”

“We do. I just need Archie to reach something in my closet.”

A pained expression crossed Jughead’s face. He leaned over and rested his elbows on the kitchen counter, burying his face in his hands.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Veronica snapped. “Go and wait for the elevator.” She stalked back off down the hallway, dragging Archie with her.

Betty watched Jughead stand back up and adjust his hat. He exhaled slowly, his frustration evident. It was a stark contrast to his mood when they’d risen an hour ago. But when his eyes met hers, he still smiled. She was still a bit giddy. It was true that, in light of her morning, she would have much preferred to be having breakfast with just him. Just the two of them. She thought that might have been his preference, too, and it went a long way in explaining why he was acting like his morning had been commandeered. It really had.

She reached for his hand, and lead him out of the apartment to the elevator.

It was such a familiar, everyday part of her life now, waiting for this elevator. The click of the sensor lights as they flickered on when she left the apartment. The steady count on the digital screen as the elevator rose to the 14th floor. The chime that sounded just before the doors opened, and the dim glow that lit up the interior.

The chime sounded and the doors opened, but there was still no sign of Veronica and Archie. Betty walked in anyway, leaning against the wall, preparing to wait. Jughead followed her in, holding his hand in front of the automatic doors to ensure they remained open and making sure it didn’t go anywhere; essentially rendering it useless to the 13 floors below them.

Such poor apartment etiquette.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me.” Jughead tapped his foot impatiently.

Betty smiled at him. “I can.”

“Should we just go?”

“What?! No. She won’t be too much longer.”

“Betty, have you _met_ Veronica? She’s doing this on purpose.”

This was a slightly hypocritical accusation, considering there would be no surer way to antagonise Veronica than for them to leave without her, and yet here he was plotting that on purpose too. There was really no hope for the pair of them.

“Sshhh.”

Jughead smirked and pulled his hand back from the automatic doors. He reached out to press the button for the ground floor, but Betty caught his arm just in time.

“Don’t. Do it.” She said through gritted teeth, trying not to smile as she pulled his arm away. He was stronger than her, but he let her. At least, he did at first. And then when she relaxed her grip, he reached out and pressed the button anyway.

The doors closed, and Betty felt them travel down several floors. She shook her head disapprovingly at him.

“You are the worst.”

He grinned. “I know.”

Betty sighed, resigned to the fact that the rest of their waiting would be taking place down in the foyer. And then there was an abrupt jolt and the lift stopped. The lights flickered briefly. Betty froze, glancing over uncertainly at Jughead.

He looked somewhat concerned, his expression betraying the dawning realisation he may perhaps have done something he would live to regret. He pressed several buttons experimentally.

Nothing happened.

They waited a moment longer, and still nothing happened.

He turned around, looking slightly sheepish.

“Oops.”

 

***

 

Jughead ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket. “They say it's just a mechanical issue, and that someone can be here within the next half an hour.”

“Okay. I guess that’s something”

“Are you mad?”

“A bit.”

“How mad?”

“I’m not mad. I’m just... inconvenienced.”

He had the decency to look somewhat contrite. Sometimes consequences were a wonderful thing.

“Do you think Veronica will be mad?”

“I have no idea, Jughead.” That was a lie, of course she would be mad. “I’ll ask her at brunch, if you want.”

“Yes please.”

“Fine.”

Betty leaned back against the wall of the elevator and slid down the wall to a sitting position. She stretched her legs out in front of her and crossed one of the other. “I’ve never been stuck in an elevator before.”

“Neither,” Jughead replied. “What a weekend of firsts.” He gave her a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.

She chose to ignore this, instead staring at him expectantly. His expression was unreadable, and predictably so. The silence was suddenly palpable; all this pretending there was nothing to say. The irony was not lost on her.

It was silent for long enough that eventually Jughead crouched down and sat across from her on the other side of the elevator, stretching his legs out alongside hers.

“Betty.”

“Yeah?”

“How will we work?”.

Betty didn’t say anything. She didn’t really know for sure. Maybe they wouldn’t.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” he added quietly. “If I haven’t, already.”

Betty shook her head. He’d made a good shot of it, but he hadn’t quite messed it up. Not yet. “I’d rather we mess it up than never find out what it could be like.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he smiled at her, and she knew that he would rather that too. Even if he couldn’t quite vocalise it yet.

It was so much safer not to let the world in, not to let anything touch you. But equally, there weren’t unlimited chances in life at the things you really wanted. And nothing was worse than missing out on an opportunity that could have changed your life.

You couldn’t hide behind things forever.

She watched him pick at a loose thread on the sleeve of his sweater. He tugged at it and it unravelled further, the cuff of his sleeve fraying slightly.

“Sometimes I think there’s something wrong with me," he said, more conversationally than anything. "I have this relentless compulsion to skirt around the truth.”

“There’s something wrong with all of us,” Betty said simply.

Once you realised this, figuring out how to deal with your own particular struggles became much less overwhelming. But sometimes it was the people who seemed so outwardly to have it all together that were struggling the most. She understood that now, and she hoped he did too.

You couldn’t change one aspect of your circumstances and expect everything else to change too. But in this instance, Betty really thought that Jughead’s decision to leave his job in search of what he described as ‘a smaller firm with a healthier culture’ could only lead to betterment. Not least, because there would now be room in his life for her too. Both of their lives would surely be better off for that reason.

When he finally responded, his voice was still quiet, but assured. “I think you’re my favourite person.”

The past 12 hours felt like something of a breakthrough, but she was reluctant for him to revert to his incomplete thoughts and unanswered questions. “And why is that?” she prompted him, smiling.

The loose thread was even longer now. Betty wanted to tell him to stop it because he was doing irreparable damage to the sleeve of his sweater, but his thoughts were also untangling before her and she just couldn’t.

“You make everything seem clearer. You make choices, and you choose your words, and you say mean what you say.”

“I didn’t always do that.”

“I know,” he acknowledged. “That’s how I know that it’s realistic for me to consider it a work in progress.”

That was fair enough. Many things were a work in progress.

“You’re also very smart. And very pretty.” He smiled over at her. “And funny. Even though you pretend not to be.”

“‘I’m not funny.”

“See? There it is.”

It wasn’t hard to tell that Jughead knew he was charming and funny and attractive himself. It was so apparent in his outward confidence that it seemed implausible his self worth could be so fragile. It had taken Betty a while to realise the extent to which this was a problem for him. His abilities to charm and obfuscate and find fleeting connections were all just a means to avoid finding something deeper, where someone might actually love and care for him. It had taken longer again for him to figure that out himself, but now that he had she knew that things could, and likely would, change going forward.

Betty cleared her throat. “I’ve been trying to be more productively part of social life.”

“Mm. And how how has that been going for you?”

“Well, actually.” It really had been going well. All in all she was very pleased with the outcome. “Except, now I only want to hang out with you.”

“Aww, Cooper.” Jughead looked pleased with that as an outcome too. “I'm not going anywhere. Particularly not right now, obviously. But in general. I’m right here.”

He grinned and held out his hand in a relaxed fist. She raised an eyebrow, but reached out and bumped her knuckles against his. It was oddly relaxed for someone who couldn’t seem to do anything in a relaxed way, but Betty couldn’t imagine punctuating this conversation in any other fashion.

Betty’s phone began to ring, and she sensed immediately that it was Veronica.

“Did you text her?” she asked Jughead. He shook his head.

Of course he didn’t.

Betty braced herself, and answered the call. _“Hello?”_

_“Hi! Where are you guys?”_

Betty chewed on her lip. _“We’re in the elevator.”_

_“What? But it broke down?”_

_“Yeah, we’re waiting for someone to come and let us out.”_ She paused, glancing over and making eye contact with Jughead. _“Jughead broke it.”_

Jughead looked outraged.

 _“Urghhh,”_ Veronica said. _“Of course he did. Tell him he’s a loser.”_

Betty pulled the phone away from her ear and smiled sweetly at Jughead. _“Veronica says you’re a loser.”_

Jughead rolled his eyes.

Betty lifted the phone back to her ear.

 _“Are you guys okay, though?”_ Veronica sounded genuinely concerned. There would always be time for being mad later, after all. 

_“Yeah, we’re fine.”_

_“Alright, well we’ll wait for you guys in the foyer.”_

_“See you in a bit.”_

 

***

 

They didn’t hold reservations for groups that were over an hour late. Betty supposed that was fairly reasonable, but it did little to mitigate their collective disgruntlement.

As it happened, the morning had been eventful enough that’s Betty’s interest in brunch had dissipated somewhat. By now it was almost lunchtime anyway. As such, she was not hugely enthusiastic about seeking an alternative venue. But for the vast volume of cookies consumed this morning, Betty suspected there may have been a strong front put up by the boys about this. Instead, the four of them had reached an unusually unanimous agreement to go back to Precinct.

It was oddly anticlimactic. But the walk back home along the waterfront was pleasant enough that Betty felt the outing worthwhile - if only for them to enjoy the sunshine a little. Betty’s morning had been one of mixed extremes. This at least was pleasantly serene.

Veronica had already imposed a Lifelong Ban on Jughead using the elevator again, something Archie found highly amusing. There were many benefits of living on the penthouse floor, but traversing 14 flights of stairs was not one of them. Veronica was not even remotely interested in Jughead's protestations that he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and was more than happy to chastise him.

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” she reprimanded. “Because Jughead breaks them.”

Betty almost felt bad for contriving to implicate him as the culprit. Almost, but not quite. This, of all things, he could handle with aplomb. Subtly undermining Veronica was his specialty. Besides, there was obviously no absence of nice things at Precinct.

 **Everything else, the two of them were still figuring out.** But it felt tangible now, the looming sense of some sort of resolution. Betty knew that it would still take some time. Small steps. The tentative kind required to prevent Jughead from imploding, and to get him to use his words.

Given the favourable conditions, they detoured the long way around the waterfront. Veronica veered off at one point, heading in the direction of a park bench at the water’s edge. Betty, Jughead and Archie followed her.

It wasn’t until Betty sat down, sandwiched between Jughead and Archie, and looked out at the harbour, that she realised she recognised this precise view. She’d sat here before. It was to this very park bench that she had retreated in the wake of her roommate interview with Veronica all those months ago.

Betty could remember that feeling. The feeling of having stumbled across something with boundless potential, if only she could figure out how to harness it. The feeling of having found what you were desperately searching for, even though you hadn’t realised how thoroughly you’d been looking.

She’d been lucky, and she knew that. There was surely an element of luck in everything you approached in life. But she didn’t want to perpetuate the notion too much. She’d also made a concerted effort to do everything she could to make this new opportunity to work out.

And it had.

Everything was considerably different, but she was still the same. The same, but with a different outlook. She would never be sure if she’d developed this new perspective on life because of what she’d been through or in spite of it. And it would surely continue to undulate. But for now everything felt level.

Above all, she was no longer seated here alone. She had Veronica and Archie, and she had Jughead. She found comfort in knowing that they would continue to be there with her, certainly in the short term future, and even hopefully beyond that.

“Look at us,” Veronica said lazily, screening the sun out of her eyes with her hand. “Just a couples of couples.”

Archie was clearly underwhelmed by this cheesy statement. “Ew.”

That was not a response likely to be recommended anywhere.

“I take that back,” Veronica said grimly. “Just the one couple.”

Jughead pulled a face of exaggerated mock concern. "Which one of you's gonna move out?"

"Veronica," Archie said quickly. 

Veronica looked at Betty and rolled her eyes.

Nobody said anything for a moment. And then it was Jughead that broke the comfortable silence. It was always Jughead.

"Does this mean we get to play basketball in the kitchen again?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are. Whether you have been with me from the very beginning, or whether you have just joined in recently - thank you so much. I've really appreciated all of your comments and asks and likes and reblogs. I've somehow broken through life long writer's block to put this together, and that is largely attributable to your enthusiasm and engagement. You make my heart sing, each and every one of you ❤️
> 
> Thank you also to those of you who have made direct contact to tell me that Betty's struggles resonated with you. I know I wrote them, but they resonate with me too, and perhaps for similar reasons. If you go looking, you might be able to find an Eleanor or a Sarah. I did on all three counts. 
> 
> It's been an interesting process - like the bit where I didn't realise you could edit chapters in "Rich Text", and thought I had to teach myself HTML to amend my formatting...I suppose that's a useful skill to now have?! And also that time I had a tantrum and broke up with my Tumblr account. Awks. But we made it eventually. I don't have any immediate plans to write anything else, but you guys are pretty damn persuasive. If there's something you'd like me to add to this universe, if you're emphatic enough about it I'll probably say yes!
> 
> Please drop me a comment or a line on Tumblr so I can come back and thank you personally for sticking with me.
> 
> Lots of love, Annabel x
> 
>  
> 
> [www.findingbetty.tumblr.com](https://findingbetty.tumblr.com)


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